


I'll Be Here to Catch You

by Practically_An_XMan



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mild Language, No Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28670916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Practically_An_XMan/pseuds/Practically_An_XMan
Summary: She’s been given a second chance as a part of the First Class, and she’s not going to throw this away. Mira Hart is a rarity, able to heal others. She’s healed so many with her hands, and now the boy with the clever blue eyes and the soft smile will heal her heart.
Relationships: Hank McCoy/Original Female Character, Moira MacTaggert/Charles Xavier (mentioned)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 7





	1. A Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is going to follow through the events of First Class, DOFP, Apocalypse, and Dark Phoenix, with some original plotlines put into the mix as well. I’m basically ignoring the weird decade-skips between movies, this fic coincides with the events of the movies but the timeline is kind of fluid. I'll try to stay mostly consistent with it but stuff like the technology they use or the music they might listen to could be a bit out-of-timeline. But they're X-Men, I think they can break the rules a little. Idk. It’ll make more sense as you read.

____  
Mira Hart walked out of the clinic, swiping a hand furiously across her eyes. It was just a job. She could find another job...right? She pulled her hood up over her head, disguising the things that revealed her mutation. She took a deep, harsh breath, and kept walking. Distancing herself from that place.

It wasn’t the fact that she lost her job. It was why. She’d gotten a job at the clinic because of her healing abilities, but as soon as her other mutations revealed themselves, they kicked her to the curb. Hypocrites. 

She kept walking, making her way back to her crappy apartment. She had a way to get there quicker….but not here. Not in front of the swarms of commuters here in the city. She hunched her shoulders inside her hoodie, trying to disappear into the crowd. Even though she hid her mutations, she couldn’t help but feel like someone was staring at her. 

____  
 _Charles Xavier stepped back, pulling the helmet off his head. A group of people surrounded him in a semicircle, waiting curiously for what he’d say next._

_“There’s a mutant in Chicago. A powerful one too.” Charles Xavier explained to his team. It was a sparse team at best, but they were working to fix that. The girl he had seen in Cerebro, Mira Hart, would be a valuable addition to the team. But she wasn’t the only mutant in Chicago._

_Shaw was on to them. He knew that. He’d send a team of mutants to ambush Charles as he went to collect Mira. So Charles needed backup. Especially in such a huge city, with all those thoughts swarming his mind, there was no way he could go alone._

_“Shaw knows this, he’s going to try and intercept us.” Charles continued, “Alex, Sean, I’d like you to join Erik and myself in recruiting her.”_

_“I’m out.” Alex interrupted quickly. Charles opened his mouth to interject, but Alex held up a hand. “You know why.” And with that, he stormed off. The other mutants looked confused - of course they did, only Charles knew of Alex’s gift. Charles sighed._

_“I’ll go.” another voice offered. Hank McCoy waved a hand, and Charles smiled._

_“Wonderful! Alright then, let’s go. With luck, we can find her before Shaw does.”_

____  
Thankfully Mira’s apartment wasn’t far. She waved at the woman in the lobby and beelined for the elevator. She pressed the button for the 6th floor, then the close-door button. She didn’t feel like sharing today. She practically ran into her apartment and locked the door.

Only then did she take off her hoodie, exposing her mutations. It was like some cosmic trade - the ability to heal others exchanged with the fact that she had to hide, that nobody could mistake her for human. Saving others’ lives at the expense of her own. She went to the bathroom, splashing water on her face. Trying to get rid of the puffiness around her eyes. She stared at her reflection for a long moment, taking in her appearance.

For the most part, her face looked human. Decent bone structure, and it wasn’t like she was covered in fur or scales or something. Her mutations were clear from just a glance, though. Her eyes gleamed yellow-green, with slitted pupils like a cat’s eye. Or a snake’s. And instead of hair, tan quills sprouted from the top of her head. When she was irritated or scared, they’d spike up, giving her an odd sort of Mohawk. They were like hedgehog quills, she thought. Between her eyes, quills, and the sharp fangs on her canines, her otherwise normal appearance shifted into something vaguely off-putting. 

And that was just her face. She had claws too. Hooked, retractable claws like a cat’s on her fingers. They normally folded under her nails - which, in a weird way meant she had two sets of fingernails. She tried not to think too much about it. 

And then she had the wings. Huge, feathered bird’s wings sprouted from her back. At full extension, Mira estimated she had a 15 to 16 foot wingspan. Her wings were mottled brown, striped with white and black at the ends. They were broad too, made for soaring. Normally she kept them hidden, uncomfortably folded against her back and covered with an oversized coat or hoodie. 

And yes, she could fly. It was another funny little cosmic trade. With a bit of research, Mira had found that for a human to fly, they’d need close to a 22 foot wingspan. And yet she could fly, with a few compromises woven into her anatomy. Her bones were hollow, making her lighter - but they were easy to break. Her wings themselves were fairly delicate as well, and with all the time they spent tucked tightly against her back, were often stiff and sore. 

She pulled herself out of her thoughts. Her mutations were part of her, better or worse. She’d tried to get rid of them, once (one of the things she could control with her healing ability), but it was all or nothing. And no matter how unsettlingly alien she looked, she couldn’t bear to part with her flight or healing. It wasn’t worth wallowing in self-pity about. She left the bathroom and collapsed on her bed. She didn’t have much money saved up - enough for the next month’s rent, and some groceries if she was frugal about it. But unless she could get another job soon, she was out of luck. She took a deep breath, stretching out on the bed. She didn’t realize how tired she was until she dozed off.

She woke up an indeterminate amount of time later. The sun was still up, but quickly setting. Mira didn’t even realize what had woken her up until she heard a _boom_ from far below her. She ran to the window, instantly awake, and saw a group of figures fighting in the street below her. 

A second _boom_ sounded, as a massive man (almost definitely a mutant, she thought) slammed a smaller figure into the side of the building. The large man froze suddenly, every muscle locking up. The smaller man slipped out of his grasp, slumping to the ground. This...wasn’t natural. Clearly there was more than one mutant at play here.

Despite the rational part of her brain screaming to stay hidden, Mira couldn’t just let this go on. The man that was slammed into the wall was crumpled on the ground, unconscious. Mira could heal him. For a moment she debated just opening the window and flying down, but she decided against it. She wasn’t ready to expose her mutations so candidly like that.

So instead she threw on her hoodie, flung the hood up over her head, and leapt down the stairs four at a time. She was on the ground before she knew it, eyes scanning over the scene. The brick wall of a man was moving again, fighting off ropes of metal that writhed like snakes. Another figure stood behind the wall of metal vines, hands extended. He seemed to be controlling them, even as his face contorted in effort. 

Mira ran over to the man unconscious at the base of the wall. She looked him over. Thankfully, the damage didn’t seem too severe. Mira placed a hand on his bare forearm, using her ability to sense his injuries. A few cracked ribs, but clearly this man was a mutant. She could sense his healing factor already working to repair the damage, so she sped it up. 

The man shot up, brushing his red hair out of his face. Mira jumped back, and he gave her a long look before running off to rejoin the fight. He let out a harsh shriek, and the Goliath of a man who’d slammed him into the wall crumpled, clapping his hands against his ears. The windows behind Mira shattered. 

The hairs on her arm rose, and she spun around. Another mutant was standing there, and she caught a glimpse of bright red before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Mira looked around, extending her claws warily. The man appeared in front of her, and on pure adrenaline she swiped her claws across his face. He roared in pain, and something sharp ripped into her side.

Mira yelped, shoving herself away from him even as that slashed the gash in her side deeper. The mutant ripped his barbed tail away from her, and she leapt back. She pressed a hand to the wound, focusing on increasing her clotting to stop the bleeding. She could heal the rest later. 

She spotted the Goliath a few feet away, swinging heavy punches at a man with dark hair. He dodged every punch easily, but the Goliath was forcing him back into a corner. But wait, the Goliath was fighting that metal-manipulator behind her. Twin giants? 

_Oh, their poor mother._ She thought, launching herself towards the second Goliath’s back. She landed on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and digging her claws in. She squeezed, cutting off his air supply. With her arms on his bare skin, she could sense him getting weaker. Just a few more seconds....

The Goliath threw her off, sending her flying into the wall. _Snap._ She screamed in pain as one of the delicate bones in her wing broke. Her healing factor surged to repair it, but she forced it to stop. With her wing folded down, hidden, the bone wouldn’t set right. She gritted her teeth, biting down the pain, and got back up. 

She was about to make a second attempt at that Goliath when he just...collapsed. He hit the ground with a heavy _thud_ , and his breathing slowed. He was asleep, deeply asleep. 

“Thanks, Charles.” she heard the man beside her mutter. He clutched an arm against his chest, face tight with pain. Broken, she could tell. She walked up to him.

“You alright?” she asked. He turned to her, blue eyes gleaming with pain and exertion. He was taller than her, and despite his slender build she could see muscle definition in his arms. His dark hair hung down across his forehead, mussed from the fight. Despite the pain she saw in his face, he managed a lopsided smile at her. Mira felt her face grow warm. He was cute, in a geeky sort of way.

“I’ll be alright.” he said. He shrugged, then winced. He extended his free arm.

“I’m Hank. Thanks for helping me out back there.” he smiled. She took his hand, giving it a quick shake.

“Mira.” she replied. On a whim, she sent a pulse of power through his hand, and he gasped as his broken bone healed. She met his eyes, giving him a quick wink before releasing his hand. He stammered for a moment, taken aback, before gathering himself.

“Wai- wait!” he exclaimed as she started to walk away. Mira turned, tilting her head at him. 

“We wanted to talk to you.”

“We? Who’s we?” she wondered.

“Our team. Charles said we were looking for a mutant named Mira Hart. That’s you, isn’t it?”

She hesitated. She didn’t know what their motivations were. But she really couldn’t picture Hank as some kind of villainous mastermind. There was something so open about him, the way he was looking at her now with so much hope and kindness. She nodded. 

“You’re a healer?” he continued. She hated questions about her mutation like this, but he sounded genuinely curious.

“Among other things.” she responded vaguely, still aware of the painful throbbing in her broken wing. 

_Perhaps you should heal that._ A voice that was not her own echoed in her mind. She flinched. 

“What the hell?” she muttered aloud, pressing a hand against her head. 

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.” a crisp English accent conceded from behind her. Mira whirled, still on high alert. 

“Charles Xavier. Pleased to meet you, Mira.” the man introduced, “Now, I apologize for being so curt, but I’m putting together a team of extraordinary individuals and I’d like you to consider joining us. I don’t have much time to explain, they’ll be waking up soon.” he gestured to the mutants who had attacked them, now starting to stir. 

She looked over the group. Charles in front, flanked by two red-haired mutants. The one she’d healed earlier - the shrieking one, and the metal-manipulator. And Hank, standing beside her. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” she asked, already weighing her options. Stay here, try to find another job, and continue to hide her mutation from everybody’s prying eyes. Or go with this group of strangers, travel to God-knows-where...and finally not have to hide. She realized she’d made her decision the moment she stepped into the fight. She was miserable here in the city.

“I sense your intuition has already told you.” Charles answered vaguely. She nodded.

“Let me grab my things.” 

She started to run towards the door to her apartment complex, then paused. She had nothing to lose now. They wanted a team of mutants? Let them see her mutant side.

In one fluid motion, she slipped out of her oversized hoodie. She winced as the bones in her broken wing snapped back into place, before launching herself off the ground and soaring up to her sixth-floor window. She landed on the windowsill, sliding open the window and ducking inside. Despite the rush of confidence she felt, her heart was pounding. She’d never, _never_ , shown herself in front of so many people before. 

She stuffed some clothes into a backpack, along with a handful of basic toiletries. Good thing she didn’t own much. She glanced around at her apartment, realizing this might be the last time she saw it. To be honest, she wouldn’t miss it. Peeling walls, mildew in the bathroom, and the constant sound of vermin skittering around. She zipped up the backpack, slinging it backwards across her chest - she needed her wings free. Then she slipped out the window and flew back down to the small group of mutants, now standing besides a black jet. 

She expected some adverse reactions from them - she knew full well that _knowing_ someone was a mutant and _seeing_ it were two very different things. But Charles just smiled, and Hank seemed almost...awed. She ducked away from his gaze, feeling embarrassed, and glanced around at the Goliaths, now struggling back to their feet. 

“Should we get going then?” she prompted, looking warily at the massive, scowling mutants behind her. Charles nodded promptly, and they led her into the jet. 

This was the start of her new life.


	2. Codenames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team picks their code names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah yeah, I'm just inserting Mira into the scene

“I want to be called Mystique.” Raven insisted. She raised a delicate eyebrow, looking at the mutants across from her. She was seated next to Hank on the couch, with Alex on her other side. Darwin, Sean, and Angel sat across from her. Mira stayed back a bit, leaning against the back of the couch behind Hank and Raven. The others had shown her nothing but kindness so far, but she was always wary of getting close to people. 

“Damn, I wanted to be called Mystique!” Sean joked.

“Well tough, I called it.” Raven retorted. A ripple of blue shifted over her skin, and suddenly Sean was staring himself in the face. Raven - Mystique - raised her eyebrows at him, and the rest of the mutants let out a whoop. Mira grinned.

“And I’m way more mysterious than you.” Raven mimicked in Sean’s voice. Sean conceded, applauding her. The others joined in a moment later. Mira laughed, grinning at her friends. She still wore her hoodie, with the hood pulled up to cover her quills, but she was quickly realizing that she didn’t feel the need to hide around them. 

Raven pushed the spotlight off of herself. 

“Darwin, what about you?”

“Well, ‘Darwin’ is already a nickname, and it sort of fits.” he explained, standing up. “Adapt to survive and all.”

His eyes brightened then, he had an idea. He walked over to the fish tank in the back of the room and dunked his head in. To everyone’s shock, _gills_ appeared on the sides of his face. Mira was incredibly curious as to how that worked. Did his body just _create_ an amphibious breathing system to allow him to survive underwater? She hoped she got the chance to ask him about that later, and maybe use her medical sense to figure out how his power worked.

Another round of cheering burst out. Darwin lifted his head out of the tank, shaking the water out of his hair. The gills disappeared. 

“That was incredible! Thank you.” Hank noted brightly. Mira could tell that he was thinking the same thing - trying to figure out how that worked. She’d found out that he was a scientist, a doctor like her. She’d wandered into his lab one day, and they’d gotten into a conversation about the mutant genome. They’d been so absorbed in conversation that they nearly missed dinner. Mira loved the way Hank’s eyes would light up when he talked about the things he was passionate about. It was like every cell in his body came alive when he spoke: ideas were like water to him, he thrived off of them. 

“Why do you want to be named after a wailing spirit?” Hank’s voice prompted her out of her thoughts. He was talking to Sean, who had apparently decided on the code name “Banshee”. 

“You might want to cover your ears.” Sean warned, moving to stand in front of the large bay window. He took a deep breath, and Mira - remembering how he’d shrieked at that Goliath a few weeks ago - was quick to slip her hands inside her hood and cover her ears. The others were quick to follow suit.

Sean glanced at them, holding his breath, then let out a short, controlled sound. It was almost like a whistle, Mira thought. The window shattered, and for a moment everyone looked stunned. Then Darwin started to laugh, and it was quick to spread about the room. Sorry, government people, there goes your window. Sean gestured at Angel.

“Your turn.” he insisted. She was quick to stand up, shedding her leather jacket as she did so. Delicate tattoos wrapped her shoulders. They reminded Mira of dragonflies’ wings. And rightly so.

“Well, my ‘stage name’ is Angel.” she noted, turning so her back was to them. Her tattoos seemed to peel off her back, becoming real wings, “It kind of fits.” Sean whistled, impressed.

Mira felt a flash of jealousy at how easy and painless it was for Angel to disguise her wings, then forced it down. It was just how her mutation presented itself, it wasn’t her fault. 

“You can fly?” Raven asked, incredulous. Angel nodded.

“And…” Angel continued after a moment. She turned to face the statue in the courtyard, seeming to spit a ball of energy at it. It landed on the statue’s head and hissed, corroding the statue like acid. 

“Not bad!” Mira laughed. The others turned to her, but she held her nerve. 

“But I think I’ve got you beat.” She stepped out from her spot behind the couch, mentally measuring the dimensions of the room. She caught Hank looking at her curiously, like he couldn’t wait for the others to see what she could do. The thought gave her confidence.

Mira turned the same way Angel had, so her back was to her friends. Then she pulled the hoodie over her head and unfolded her wings. In the small room, they stretched to almost reach the edges of the broken window on either side of her, feathers spread wide. Someone let out a whoop. She turned back to face the others, grinning.

“What’s your code name, the Flying Porcupine?” Alex joked - or at least, he thought he was joking. The words stung, though, and Mira’s smile faltered. She folded her wings a little closer to herself, instinctively returning to that hiding behavior she’d been forced into for so many years. She reached down to retrieve her hoodie, ears burning.

“How about Chimera?” Hank suggested softly. Mira glanced up, finding him looking at her sympathetically.

“What do you mean?”

“For your code name. Chimera.” he continued, “It’s from Greek mythology. And it kind of fits, since your name is Mira.” 

She considered that for a moment. She was aware of the mythical chimera, and the scientific term used for a genetic hybrid. It was a cool name to have. And Hank was right, it _did_ fit with her name being Mira.

“I like it.” she said, smiling at him. She picked up her hoodie and went back to her spot behind the couch - but, after a moment, decided not to put it back on. 

“What’s your name?” Angel asked, changing the subject. Suddenly it was Hank’s turn to look uncomfortable. 

“How about Bigfoot?” Alex teased again, taking a sip of his soda. Mira opened her mouth, about to tell him to shut the hell up, but Raven got there first. 

“You know what they say about guys with big feet…” she taunted, “and uh...yours are kind of small.” The guys whooped at that, and Alex looked down in surrender. Hank shot a grateful smile at Raven, who dropped her gaze with a slight blush. Mira got the sense that there was something going on between the two of them, and she bit the inside of her cheek. 

She wasn’t really sure where she stood with Hank. They were friends, that was for sure, and they seemed to share a lot of the same interests. He was kind to her, and aside from Charles he was the only one who didn’t seem taken aback by her mutation. But he’d never looked at her the way he was looking at Raven now. Mira tried to tell herself that didn’t bother her, but she couldn’t control the spear of envy that wormed its way into her heart. 

She didn’t realize how far she’d zoned out into her thoughts until Hank grabbed her arm, gently pulling her off to the side to huddle behind a wall with the others. Alex stood in the courtyard, ready to show off his power.

“You okay?” Hank murmured in her ear. 

“Fine. Just got lost in thought for a moment there.” Mira excused, then peered out from behind the wall. Hank’s hand slipped from her arm to her waist, steadying her, and Mira’s breath hitched for a moment. 

“Get back.” Alex warned. Everybody darted back...then stole another glance.

“Get back!” Alex shouted again, then a moment later, “Whatever.” He gritted his teeth, and glowing rings appeared around his body. He seemed to have trouble controlling them, and when he released the rings, they went wild. The statue was effectively obliterated, and the rest of the courtyard wasn’t looking much better. 

Mira could hear Hank muttering something under his breath. Calculations? She caught something about “focusing the energy”, and understood what he was calculating. If they could find a way to focus Alex’s power, it could be useful. Or at least, they might avoid the risk of friendly fire. 

Everyone fanned out, staring at the mutilated courtyard. Angel and Raven hopped up and down excitedly, and Sean cheered. Hank looked simply stunned, and Mira’s eyes darted from place to place as she mentally assessed how to potentially funnel Alex’s energy into a more controlled form. 

All of the awkward energy between the young mutants seemed to dissolve. The simple act of choosing codenames had brought them together as a team, as friends. Charles and Erik were furious when they’d come back to find the courtyard destroyed, but even that couldn’t quell the camaraderie between the newly formed First Class. _We are going to do great things_ , Mira thought. _We’re going to save the world._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's already a character called Chimera in the X-Men comics. This is not her. I just picked Chimera caused I thought it fit, Mira has no relation to the Chimera from the comics


	3. The Mind is a Muscle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of scenes based on the training montage in First Class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normal text is Mira's perspective, italicized is Hank's. These are just some scenes (including a flashback) that were too short to put in their own chapters.

____  
It was their first week training at the mansion. Given their recent destruction of government property, Charles had figured it was a better idea for them to live and train here. Mira was ecstatic. As soon as she’d seen the huge laboratory, and the clinic area beside it, she felt right at home. Not to mention the fact that her bedroom alone was the size of her old apartment (and a hell of a lot cleaner). 

She didn’t cover her wings much anymore. It wasn’t until she started doing this regularly that she realized how much pain she’d been in from leaving her wings folded against her back all the time. All the soreness she’d tended to associate with stress had just...disappeared after about a week of training. 

She was still in awe over the sheer amount of space they had here. There were enough rooms for everybody, plus plenty of spares - and if Charles’ idea to open this up to mutants everywhere had any merit, those spare rooms would come in handy. A huge lab space (where Hank had been camped out for the last three days), a clinic right beside it, and a near-impervious bunker below. Acres and acres of open space, free of judgement. 

Mira stepped out onto the lawn, inhaling deeply. City air just didn’t compare to this. She shook out her wings (falconers called the action a “rouse”, for her it was instinctual) and prepared to go for an early-morning fly. The sunrise was just so much more beautiful from 10 stories up. It had become a bit of a routine for her. Rise before the sun, prepare for the day, then relish in the calmness and the blissful sunrise before the hustle and bustle of training began. 

She took off, pumping her wings forcefully until she reached a gentle air current. She extended her wings, using the current to hold her aloft. She closed her eyes, feeling the cool wind on her face. When a sliver of light crested the horizon, she soared in loose circles to watch. The sky lightened, brushstrokes of orange and pink spreading as the sun rose. 

The sunlight caressed her skin, casting her in gold. Rays of light shone through her feathers, bringing shades of red and bronze into her wings. In this moment, she looked like an angel - flying alight with beauty and serenity. 

She didn’t know it, but far below her, a figure watched from his bedroom window. He’d woken up to watch the sunrise as well, but instead had found himself utterly mesmerized by the modern Venus flying high above him.

____  
Sean stood on top of the satellite dish, looking apprehensive. Charles had assured him over and over to trust himself, and that everything would be alright. Erik stood beside him, and Mira stood off to the side. She was the failsafe. Just in case.

Sean spread his arms, inspecting the webbing stretched down his sides like wings. The idea was, he’d use his sonic shriek to propel himself off the ground, and the “wings” would help him to fly. He’d tried this one before, off the roof of the mansion, and had just...fallen. He wasn’t hurt, but he was hesitant to try again.

Mira watched as he took a step back, steeling his nerves. She had complete confidence in the suit she and Hank had built. It was modelled after the “wings” of sugar gliders, flexible and strong. As long as Sean got the angle right, he would be fine. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Sean took a deep breath and ran off the balcony. He was in freefall for a long moment, and Mira surged forward. Charles stopped her, flinging an arm in front of her chest.

“He can do it.” he muttered softly. Mira’s heart seemed to stop for a second, but then the echoes of Sean’s sonic scream reached her ears. He glided just above the ground, letting out a whoop of delight as he flew. He was wobbly at first, unsure, but gradually gained confidence. Mira let out a laugh of delirious relief. 

She dove off the platform and swooped down, quickly catching up to Sean. She pulled her wings back partway, gliding the same way he was. She had to shout to be heard, with all the wind rushing by them.

“SO HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?” she yelled. He glanced up at her for a moment before giving her a thumbs-up. She laughed, tilting a wing to break away from him. She banked towards the mansion, seeing Charles and Erik already on the ground. Charles was talking with Hank, who seemed excited. He always talked with his hands more when he was excited. She landed a few feet away, taking a few steps to absorb her momentum. She ran up to them eagerly. 

“It worked! The membranes worked like a charm!” she exclaimed, grinning widely at Hank, “Your idea to use the carbon filaments as ribbing was brilliant, the membranes stayed extended even at nearly vertical angles.”

He laughed elatedly, wrapping his arms around her in an embrace and spinning her around in his excitement. He was _strong_ for a skinny guy. He set her down, azure eyes still gleaming with enthusiasm. 

Charles cleared his throat from behind them, hiding his smile with a fist. 

____  
_Hank followed Charles into the bunker. He and Mira had created another invention to try out - a chest piece made to funnel Alex’s energy blasts into a controlled beam. Mira often worked with him on the inventions. Her ability to sense the inner workings of a mutant’s ability gave her key insight into a way to adjust it._

 _Once Alex had the armor strapped across his chest, Hank turned to leave. He figured he’d wait to see the results from_ outside _the bunker, like Mira was. Instead, Charles placed a hand on his shoulder, leading him to stand on a painted X in the middle of the room. Charles stood opposite him, with a mannequin - a target - in the middle._

_Charles pressed a finger to his temple, focusing. Probably telling Mira to stay close, just in case. It was always “just in case”. Hank shuffled a half-step away from the mannequin, apprehensive. He’d seen what had happened with the first trial. Thankfully they’d just used mannequins that time._

_Alex gritted his teeth, summoning the energy. Hank tensed, ready to be sliced in half like that statue back at the CIA base. He was half-convinced Alex would aim at him on purpose, just to spite him. Somehow Charles remained calm._

_A beam of energy erupted from Alex’s chest, blindingly bright. Hank and Charles dove out of the way as the mannequin burst into flames. There was a single, stunned moment before Alex laughed._

_The door to the bunker creaked open, and Mira looked in cautiously. Her yellow-green eyes scanned the room, first looking at Alex laughing in triumph, then the flaming target, before finally coming to meet Hank’s eyes. He saw her sigh in relief as she took a full step into the room._

_“Everyone alright?” she asked hesitantly. Her eyes flicked from person to person, assessing the damage. From the look on her face, she didn’t sense any injuries. She’d told him once that her medical sense, as she called it, was like an extension of her own senses. Severe damage, she’d said, was similar to looking into a bright light. Uncomfortable, and it overwhelmed her other senses. But her face was clear, if concerned._

_“We’re just splendid, Mira.” Charles answered for the three of them. After one more cautious beat, Mira visibly relaxed. Her face split into a smile as she processed what this meant. Another mutant’s abilities harnessed, tamed for proper use. They were making excellent progress._

_Hank loved the way Mira smiled. He was too much of a coward to tell her this, but he just loved it. One side of her smile would lift more than the other, exposing her pointed canines. And she had the most adorable dimples. These smiles were rare, too: she didn’t often let her guard down enough to so effortlessly show off her fangs like that. But it seemed like Hank saw these smiles from her more often every day._

_Charles met his gaze for a moment, raising an eyebrow. Hank felt his face grow hot, and he hoped he wasn’t blushing. The man claimed to stay out of everyone’s minds, but clearly he knew more than he let on. Or maybe Hank was just more transparent than he thought. At least Charles was polite enough to keep it to himself._

_“You guys coming?” Mira’s voice called from the doorway. She and Alex were already on their way out. Hank followed her. He had to be careful with this one. She’d already taken more of his heart than he knew._

____  
Mira watched as Hank and Charles raced across the yard. For a few seconds, they were evenly matched, but then Hank poured on the speed. He took a resounding lead, and after another moment had completely lapped Charles. He looked back for a moment, winking at Mira, before tapping Charles on the shoulder.

He let out a sharp breath, startled, before laughing. The two slowed, just out of earshot, and shook hands. Hank was smiling. Alex approached him, gesturing at his feet. Judging from the shift in Hank’s expression, he’d made another stupid joke-not-really about his feet. Mira clenched her jaw, irritated. She didn’t understand why Alex had to be such an asshole towards Hank.

Alex walked away, and Mira jogged up to Hank and Charles. She stopped just in front of them. Charles had called her to train with them today, but she wasn’t sure why. Running wasn’t exactly a sport that needed imminent medical attention.

“Now, Mira versus Hank. Same thing, one lap around the building.” Charles said.

“Seriously? He’d wipe the floor with me. I’m not a runner.” Mira excused. Something glinted in Charles’ eyes.

“I never said you’d be running.” he answered, nodding his head towards her back. Her eyes lit with comprehension, and she smirked.

“Alright then.” she said as she turned to Hank, “Bring it on, genius.”

They lined up at the “starting line” (really just a smudged line in the gravel), and Charles counted them down to start. They began. 

Mira got the sense that he was going easy on her. When they started running they were evenly matched. But then he sped up, and she spread out her wings and, with a kick, launched herself into the air.

She flew low to the ground, keeping her wings spread wide as she glided just above his head. Despite Hank running at his full speed, they were evenly matched once more. She tapped him on the shoulder, mimicking what he’d done with Charles. He glanced up with a short laugh, then forced himself faster. 

She refused to let him win. The finish line was coming up fast, and Hank had edged ahead. Mira tucked her wings in, a human torpedo. The burst of speed helped, but Hank was still ahead of her. She dove towards the finish line, tucking into a roll to absorb her momentum.

“Hank by an inch!” she heard Charles shout. Mira splayed out on the gravel, laughing.

“Dammit” she said lightheartedly. Hank offered her a hand, and she took it to pull herself off the ground. He was breathless, she had given him some solid competition.

“That was fun.” he laughed. 

____  
_~ Three weeks before ~_

_The remaining members of the First Class sat outside the CIA headquarters. They rested on a long marble bench, looking exhausted. Shaw had ambushed them. He’d taken Angel. He’d killed Darwin._

_The loss had hurt them all, but Mira seemed the most affected. Hank knew why. He’d seen the way she’d darted over, seen the focus on her face as she tried desperately to heal Darwin after Shaw had forced that ball of energy down his throat. He’d seen the crushed look on her face when it didn’t work._

_Even when his skin began to shift in a desperate attempt to adapt, even when a fiery glow began to burn from inside his chest, Mira had stayed there, pressing her hands to the sides of his face. Her face had gone harsh, almost pained, and her hands began to shake with the effort._

_She stayed there a moment too long. When the energy had finally become too much, when the explosion hit, she’d only had time to wrap her wings around herself as she was blown back. Hank had run over to her, slumped against the wall of the courtyard. Her wings were blackened and smoking, but the look of grief and helplessness on her face was not for them. Darwin was gone._

_From the expression on her face now even, she was still replaying that moment in her mind. She sat next to Hank, here on the stone bench, and leaned her head against his shoulder. Any other time, he’d be delighted by this, by being the one she relied on, but he knew that now was not the time for that._

_Her eyes were distant, like she was revisiting that moment, trying to figure out how she could have done it differently if she were given a second chance. And she kept rubbing her hands together, as if she was trying to wash away the weight of Darwin’s death._

_Hank reached out, gently grabbing her left hand and pressing it against his leg. She’d rub her hands raw if he didn’t._

_“_ What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? _” he mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear. She looked down at her hands, understanding the reference._

 _“_ Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? _” she finished the quote automatically. Her right hand rested on her lap, her left still pressed under his. She took a deep breath._

 _“I just… I should have been able to_ do _something.” she murmured._

_“It wasn’t your fault.” he tried to assure her. She sighed. Clearly she didn’t fully believe him, but she didn’t argue. He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. He wished she wouldn’t blame herself like this. She’d done more to help Darwin than any of them, but she still felt responsible for his death. There was a deeper memory in her expression too, one he couldn’t pinpoint. This wasn’t the only thing paining her._

_They stayed there for a while, just sitting in silence. The First Class had lost two members today, thanks to Shaw. The group of young mutants had lost two friends. Shaw was going to get his comeuppance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, Sir Patrick Stewart, and Sir Ian McKellen all have played Macbeth at some point (that was what the quotes in the flashback scene are from btw)


	4. Crisis of Conscience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank has been locked in his lab all day, and Mira is concerned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- long chapter. idk whether to say "you've been warned" or "enjoy"  
> \- I'd love to hear what you think about this story so far!! I know my writing's not the best but I hope you enjoy it at least

Mira walked over to the door of Hank’s lab. She knocked as a formality, but was already reaching for the knob. 

“Hey, Hank, what’cha working o-” she paused mid-sentence. The door was locked. This was...odd. She usually came over to work with him in the lab, he wouldn’t just lock her out like this.

“Hank? Everything alright?” she asked, hesitant. She heard him moving towards the door, and a clatter as something fell off one of the cluttered tables. 

“Uh...yeah.” she heard his voice say from behind the door, “I just...I’m not feeling well.”

“So let me in and I’ll heal you.” she responded easily. This was getting weirder by the minute. She placed her hand on the door, trying to focus her senses. He didn’t _feel_ sick, not from what her medical sense could tell her. Something was… off… but he didn’t seem sick or injured.

“No!” he said, a little too quickly, “I mean… I just need to be alone for a while, okay?” 

“Alright…” Mira agreed, still concerned about him. “Just… let me know if you need anything, okay?”

She walked away, sparing one more glance at the locked door before she walked down the hall towards the common area. Raven sat on one of the couches, reading a book. Alex and Sean stood across the room, apparently playing some sort of game that involved tossing a ball back and forth using only short bursts of their powers.

“Hey guys?” Mira called out. Raven looked up, tilting her head curiously. Sean turned to look at Mira, missing his turn with the ball and getting beaned in the side of the head in the process. Alex snickered, then turned to give her his attention.

“Anyone talked to Hank recently? He’s locked himself in his lab and I’m getting kind of worried about him.” Sean and Alex shrugged, returning to their game, but Raven had an answer for her.

“He was testing out this serum he made last time I saw him. He probably just needs some time alone to focus.” 

Mira nodded, biting her lip. “Ah, okay.” 

She moved to sit down, forcing her overactive mind to relax. He was just working on an experiment then, nothing to worry about. She cracked open the book she’d been reading, trying to distract her mind. She couldn’t let go of that “off” feeling she’d picked up from Hank. 

____  
He’d missed training, too. Granted, he had a tendency to miss training whenever he got really absorbed in a project, but usually he’d at least _tell someone_ he was busy. Nobody had seen hide nor hair of Hank all day. 

Mira walked up to the door of his lab. She was covered in dirt from sparring with Raven this afternoon, and the bruises on her arms slowly faded as she knocked on the door. 

“Hank? Just checking in. We missed you at training today.” she said. She didn’t really expect him to respond. She waited an extra beat, then sighed and turned to leave.

“We’re...we’re here for you, Hank. Whatever’s going on, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.” she said, not even sure if he was listening. She started to walk away, her steps echoing in the empty hallway.

“Wait, Mira.” Hank’s voice called out. Mira turned towards his voice. “Can you stay?”

She was quick to respond. “Yeah, of course.” She turned back towards the door, taking a few steps closer so he’d know she wasn’t leaving. It was silent for a long moment.

“The serum didn’t do what it was supposed to.” Hank’s quiet voice surprised her. She took a few more steps towards the door, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“It was supposed to reduce the mutations, but it… but it enhanced them.” he continued after a beat. His voice was still quiet, like this was some secret he was letting her in on. In a way, it kind of was. Mira wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted so badly to comfort him, but she didn’t know how. She wasn’t good with words.

“Hank?” Mira asked after a moment. 

“Hmm?”

“Can I tell you a story?” 

He was silent for a long moment, and Mira thought maybe she’d overstepped. She was about to backpedal, even apologize, but then:

“I’d like that.” Mira swallowed, nodding (and then feeling really stupid when she realized he couldn’t see her). She turned, sitting down with her back to the door and leaning her head back. After a moment, she felt weight on the other side of the door. She and Hank sat back-to-back, with the door between them.

“You know, I didn’t always look like this.” Mira began, taking a deep breath, “Until fairly recently, it was just the wings and the healing ability.”

“And my healing was way weaker, too. I could barely heal a broken bone without feeling dizzy. I...I worked at this clinic, back in Chicago. It was the only doctor’s office in the city that would treat mutants. I was the only mutant working there, though. Everyone else was human. They were pretty nice, though. Didn’t seem to care that I was mutant.” Mira paused. That wasn’t _exactly_ true. 

“I worked there for 4 years. I was the one they called when someone coded, cause I could heal them. Or at least I could stabilize them so they would survive through surgery. I would go home exhausted, but it was worth it. I was helping people. But then…” she had to stop again as a rush of grief overwhelmed her. 

“One day, this kid came in. Couldn’t have been more than 13 or 14. And a mutant. This kid had gray skin. I don’t mean pale: his skin was stone gray, and thick, like an elephant’s skin. He’d been jumped by a group of guys, just cause he was a mutant. He was… he was in bad shape.” Mira let out a long, shaky breath. 

“You don’t have to tell me.” Hank murmured gently. Mira took another deep breath, focusing on the warmth of his body heat on the other side of the door. Taking comfort in it.

“No, it’s okay. I want to.” She took another moment to gather herself, then continued.

“This kid, he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. It was kind of a miracle he’d even made it into the clinic. I tried to heal him, I did. I tried so damn hard.” Her voice started to waver, but she forced herself to finish the story.

“I couldn’t save him. This kid, barely even a teenager, died on the table. All because he was a mutant. And I… I blamed myself. So that night, I swiped some serum from the storage. We used it as a last resort. Like an EpiPen for mutants. It enhances a mutant’s healing factor, giving them a chance at survival. But it had… side effects”

“Like what my serum did.” Hank interjected, realizing where the story was headed. 

“Yes. A more rudimentary version of your serum. I stole it. And when I went home that night, I… I used it. I wanted to make my healing stronger. I didn’t want to have to lose anyone else like that.” She let out a humorless laugh. “You can see where that got me. I called in sick. I didn’t go to work for three days. I didn’t want anyone to see me.”

“And...when I came back, things were different. The people I’d worked with for so long, all of a sudden they were acting weird around me. Like they didn’t want to be in the same room as me. I had one guy come in and outright _refuse_ to let me heal him. Honestly, these people were so much more shallow than I’d ever imagined. They only want to associate with a mutant when nobody can tell she’s a mutant.” She realized she probably wasn’t making Hank feel any better, and bit the inside of her cheek. 

“I worked there for...another month, maybe? Wait, closer to two. After that, I guess they just couldn’t deal with it anymore. I got in to work one day, and my boss called me in at lunch. He fired me, right there.” She took a deep breath, then laughed as a thought struck her.

“That was actually the same day you came to find me. Which, in a weird way kind of makes it both the worst and best day of my life.” she laughed. She tilted her head back, leaning it against the door. 

“Sorry, I’m probably not doing much to make you feel better. I’m uh, not great at pep talks. I guess my point is, I know what it feels like. And… and I promise you, this doesn’t change anything. We’re your friends, Hank. And we’ll still be your friends no matter what that serum may have done.” Mira ducked her head, feeling a little self-conscious. She wasn’t really the “heartfelt conversation” type, usually she was more obliged to get something done quickly and deal with the feelings part later. In a way, she was grateful Hank couldn’t see her. She was definitely blushing, and there was no way she could have held her nerve to say all that to his face. 

She’d sort of run out of words to say by now, and she was walking that tricky line of feeling embarrassed for sharing something and weirdly glad she got it off her chest. Hank didn’t say anything either, but he didn’t move from his spot against the door. They stayed there for a few minutes, in that same comfortable silence that they usually fell into when they worked. Mira would be content to stay there all night if she had to, if it would bring Hank any comfort, but she was interrupted by Charles’ voice in her head.

 _Mira, Hank, you’re welcome to join us for dinner._ Even in her mind, his voice never lost that eternal patience. Sometimes she thought it was more of a superpower than his telepathy. She stood up, but kept her hand pressed to the door for a moment.

“Do you want me to bring you some food?” Mira asked.

“Maybe later. Go eat. I’m fine.” he responded. 

“Alright.” She heard him get up as she walked away. She thought she heard the click of the lock right as she turned the corner, but brushed it off and walked down to the dining room.

____  
Nobody wanted to cook the night before a mission, so Charles had ordered Chinese food. The poor delivery boy got lost so many times that eventually Charles had to “suggest” which turn was correct. Apparently the delivery boy _also_ got a 200% tip. 

Supper itself was largely uneventful. Nobody really wanted to talk, not when tensions were so high. Not when they were facing a potentially deadly mission. Not when one of their best team members was dealing with… _something_ , and nobody except Mira had even _heard his voice_ since last night. Needless to say it was stressful.

There was _one_ amusing moment, though. Apparently Sean had decided to order something called the “Atomic Chicken”, and then had freaked out when, big surprise, it turned out to be spicy. So at least that cut the tension a bit.

Mira stood up from the table, offering to do the dishes. As she was working on washing them, Raven walked up beside her and started to dry the dishes. Mira smiled at her thankfully, but couldn’t help but feel like she had some ulterior motive. Raven didn’t just help out unless she gained something from it. 

“How’s Hank?” Raven asked, keeping a lighthearted tone.

“Still locked in his lab. I’m going to bring him some food in a bit.” Mira responded. 

“Must be _some_ project he’s working on, huh?”

“Yeah. Right.” 

Raven paused, turning to look directly at Mira. She was prompting her to elaborate, but Mira stayed silent. 

“Alright then.” Raven half-sighed. Mira turned off the water and dried off her hands. She grabbed a spare plate from the cupboard and began to scoop some of the leftover food onto it. It occurred to her that she didn’t know what Hank would want, so she just stuck with sesame chicken and beef with broccoli. 

She took the plate in one hand and a water bottle in the other, then walked back down to Hank’s lab. She shifted the bottle in her hand so she could knock on the door. 

“I brought you some food. I’m gonna leave it outside the door for you.” Mira said, already crouching down to place the plate outside the door. 

“It’s unlocked.” she heard, from somewhere in the back of the room. 

“Oh! Thank you! Then I’m going to come in, okay?” Mira said hopefully, placing her hand on the doorknob. He didn’t stop her, so she slowly opened the door. She turned to close the door behind her, not seeing him at first. 

When she turned, the sight of him took her by surprise. Six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier, _at least_ , and covered head-to-toe in blue fur. Instinctively, she gasped and took a step back. She recovered quickly, but he still misinterpreted her actions. Hurt flashed across his face.

“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You didn’t.” She said definitively, already walking over to him, “You startled me, maybe, but you didn’t scare me. There’s a difference.” 

“What’s the difference?” His amber eyes met hers as he said this, and she gave him a small smile.

“Oh come on, genius, you know what the difference is. You just want to hear me say it.” she teased, but obliged him. “You surprised me, but scared would imply that I feared for my safety. I’m not afraid of you.” She took another step forward, offering him the plate of food and the water bottle. He took them both, but still had that slightly uneasy look in his eyes, like he expected her to turn and run the second he looked away. Instead, Mira gave him a reassuring smile. 

“Have you been working on anything?” she asked. His face brightened, and he quickly moved to set down the plate of food. Mira intercepted, grabbing his furry blue wrist before he was able to set down the plate.

“Maybe not on the table with the dangerous chemicals?” she suggested, gesturing with her free hand to the various vials and containers cluttering the table. He nodded sheepishly, setting down the plate on a slightly less toxic table. Mira glanced at the chemical table again. That probably wasn’t very safe. 

“Y’know, we really need to organize this place.” Mira suggested off-handedly. She idly separated a few flasks of reactive chemicals, completely missing the way Hank blushed.

“We?” 

She glanced up, only just now processing what she had said. “Yeah, we. Unless you’re kicking me out of your lab-”

“No! No, I would never!” he stammered. Mira bit the inside of her cheek, hiding her smirk. The expression on his face was so distinctly _Hank_ , the same expression he always wore when he got flustered. His eyes would get all big and he’d always reach up for his glasses to clean them, to have something to occupy his hands with. Seeing these same mannerisms on him now was of comfort to her. Helping her eyes reconcile with her brain that this _was_ Hank. 

“Sorry, got sidetracked. You were going to show me what you’re working on?” she prompted, getting the conversation righted again.

“Right.” he confirmed, leading her to a table in the back. Up against the wall was a silver crate, partially filled with black-and-yellow mission suits. Another suit, only half-finished, was spread over the tabletop. Hank ran his hand over the partially completed suit, and Mira noticed webbing strung between the arms and the torso. So this would be Sean’s suit, then.

“Mission suits?” she guessed. She ran her hand over the fabric. Flexible, but thick enough to offer some protection. 

“Exactly. There’s one for you in the crate, if you want it.” he offered, already grabbing extra fabric to keep working on Sean’s suit. Mira reached into the crate, finding the suit that seemed to be hers. It was mostly identical to the others, but hers seemed to be the only suit without gloves. She flipped it over and saw large slits in the back for her wings, and a black hood. She couldn’t help but smile. That was so thoughtful of him. 

“This is amazing, Hank. Thank you.” He turned when she said that, and smiled at her. She gently set the suit back down and walked up beside him.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“Actually, yeah. Could you build a new power funnel for Alex’s suit?” 

“On it.” She crossed the room, to where they kept the supplies she’d need. She had to pick her way across the room carefully - chairs and desks had been overturned, and there was broken glass on the floor where vials had been smashed. She made her way over to a workstation, where Hank had apparently already set aside the parts to build a new power funnel.

She pondered over the funnel for a bit before realizing there was a more efficient way of channeling the power into the center conduit. If she did it right, the funnel would be lighter and more controlled. She set to work.

____  
She and Hank worked most of the way through the night. Sometimes they’d trade stories and conversation like they usually would, but for the most part they kept their voices down to avoid disturbing the others’ sleep. She half-expected to hear Charles’ voice in her head, suggesting that she go to bed, but apparently he had other things to attend to. So she and Hank worked, until long after the sun had set and had even begun to rise again.

At one point she dozed off, halfway through stitching Erik’s suit. Hank had prompted her to turn in for the night, but she stuck it out. She was almost done anyway. Except then she’d fallen asleep again, right when she was about to finish the suit. 

When she woke up, the sky had lightened by a few shades. And while she had fallen asleep sitting at a desk, she was now lying on the small couch at the back of the lab. She rubbed her eyes, sitting up a bit. Hank was asleep at the other end of the couch, resting his head on his hand. He must have moved her when she fell asleep, then finished the suit himself. 

Surprisingly, that didn’t bother her as much as she expected. Normally she hated falling asleep in front of people (A fact she usually attributed to hiding her mutation. It had only gotten worse in recent months, when she had more to hide), but this was _Hank_. He was her best friend. She trusted him. Hell, the fact that she was able to fall asleep in front of him in the first place was a testament to how much she trusted him. 

She got up, moving as silently as she could. As much as she’d like to stay and sleep, they needed to get going. She packed the finished suits - leaving hers and Hank’s separate, they’d change at the base - into the large silver crate, then grabbed a roll of duct tape. She taped a large X on the top of the crate. She glanced at her watch. 5:13 AM. Time to head to the air base. 

She picked her way back to the couch in the back. Hank was still asleep. She put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. He started to stir, leaning a bit into her touch. Mira ignored the way that made her heart catch in her chest. 

“Hank. Hey. It’s time to get over to the air base. C’mon.”

He stirred a bit more, taking in a sharp, deep breath. His eyes fluttered open, and Mira pulled her hand back. He readjusted his glasses - apparently having fallen asleep without taking them off, and got up. He still only looked half-awake, but he grabbed a scrap piece of paper and scrawled out a note for the others:

_Gone to the air base. Bring the crate marked X. - Hank_

He handed her the marker, and Mira added her name next to his. She handed the paper back to him, and as he grabbed a roll of Scotch tape Mira followed him out of the lab. She shut the door quietly behind them - there was something a little amusing about it, it made her feel like a teenager sneaking out of the house. Hank led the way, swiping a set of car keys from the kitchen counter. A step later, Mira had stolen them from his hand.

“You’re practically still asleep. And not exactly… inconspicuous if we got pulled over. I’ll drive.” she insisted. She wasn’t exactly inconspicuous either, but any cop that was awake at 5:30 in the morning probably wouldn’t bother to spare a second glance.

They made their way over to the garage, walking along rows of cars that had apparently once belonged to Charles’ family. Hank had grabbed the keys to one of the more basic cars - a silver coupe that looked like it had rolled right out of suburbia. It was awfully cramped - Mira was tall, but not _that_ tall, and even still the tips of her quills kept catching on the padded roof of the car. Poor Hank had to lean his seat most of the way back just to fit in the car. 

“Well, I can see why nobody ever drives this thing.” Mira half-joked, awkwardly shifting in her seat. Her wings were already starting to ache, being pinned up against the back of her seat like that. 

“At least Charles won’t miss it.” Hank responded dryly. Mira shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the garage. The sun was rising, the sky turning from gray to pink to coral to orange. On a normal day, Mira would already be in the air, waking up to the fresh air high above the school. But this was far from a normal day.

She drove down the expansive driveway and pulled off onto a main road. There were only a few cars out this early in the morning, commuters nursing their coffees on the way to work. They were supposed to be at the airbase by 10 AM, but without taking a plane it would be a few hour’s drive to the air base. After all, you can’t exactly build a huge military-grade hanger in the middle of a neighborhood. 

They made it to the airbase with about an hour to spare. Mira parked the car a few blocks away, and she and Hank had jogged (well, he’d run and she’d flown) the rest of the way over. They met back up in front of the base and walked into the main building.

Mira shivered as she strode down the long hallway. It was freezing in here. She wrapped her wings around herself, trying to keep warm. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Hank move a little closer, as if he was about to put his arm around her, but he must have changed his mind. Mira felt an odd little pang of disappointment at that. 

“I’m going to go find somewhere to change.” she mentioned, holding up her mission suit. She was still wearing her lab coat and jeans from last night. Hank nodded, and Mira veered off down a different hallway, wandering until she found the women's’ room. She wasn’t worried about getting lost. Whatever little birdlike mutation had resulted in her wings had also given her a very good sense of direction. As long as she knew what _direction_ the hangar was in, she could find her way. 

She slipped into a stall and changed into her mission suit, still pondering about her mutations as she did so. It seemed like almost everyone else had one strong mutation, maybe two. Like Alex’s energy blasts or Charles’ telepathy and telekinesis. But Mira seemed to have several mutations, albeit of lesser strength. And everything had its trade. Flight for delicacy. Healing for exhaustion. The subtle usefulness of having fangs and claws for, well, having fangs and claws. She let out a chuckle that echoed off the empty bathroom walls. The name Hank had given her, Chimera, it really fit. 

Speaking of “fit”, so did the suit. Very well, in fact. Yellow on the torso, with black on the sleeves and in straps across the chest, and a silver belt. The slits on the back were perfectly aligned with the base of her wings, so she had no restriction of movement. A high collar, which she left unzipped to expose the ridges of her collarbone. No gloves, unlike the other suits. Hank knew she needed direct skin-to-skin contact to heal someone. She walked out of the stall, looking at her reflection in the mirror. The yellow suit seemed to compliment her eyes, making them seem almost luminescent. 

She pushed open the door, running down the hallway to the hangar. She slowed as she approached the massive set of doors, then slipped inside. Hank was prepping a plane for their flight, and she saw his face light up when he turned to look at her. She smiled back at him. 

The nervousness was starting to hit her now. Up until this moment, the mission was just something in the future, a bridge to eventually cross. But now she was here in the hangar, standing in her mission suit, waiting for the rest of the team to show up. She was about to travel to an island in the middle of a missile crisis, to fight a group of powerful, dangerous mutants. She could die. They could all die. 

She put that mask up, hiding her nervousness under a seemingly calm expression. But she kept folding and unfolding her claws, kept shifting a bit from foot to foot. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She checked her watch for the fourth time. 9:31. And, knowing Charles, they’d be here at least 15 minutes early. 

“Are you ready for this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The Atomic Chicken thing actually happened with my friend Isaac at a wings place lol


	5. Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight on the beach produced some interesting fallout, even for a healer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I wasn't too happy with this chapter (at least the beginning of it), but I needed to move the plot along before I got to something I'll enjoy writing more  
> \- I'm kinda awful with writing fight scenes. I don't want to write too much detail, cause then it feels like it's slowing down the scene, but then the scene feels like it's over too quickly. Anyone have tips for writing fight scenes?

Mira was supposed to stay in the plane. If the healer goes down, the rest of the team would be quick to follow. That was the plan, for her to wait with Charles in the plane, to give him strength and make sure that nobody on the team got injured. 

But Mira was terrible at following directions.

Oh, she’d tried. She stayed in the plane for as long as she could, but she was never one to stay still and wait. She heard the sounds of battle waging around her, and she couldn’t just stand there and hope that everything would be okay. 

And it was a good thing she’d left. As soon as she’d flown out of the plane, she’d seen Sean get hit with a blast of Angel’s acid. He wasn’t hurt, but it had burnt a hole in his suit and he was struggling to stay aloft. Perhaps he could have managed it on his own, but with the added weight of Alex hanging onto him, he was dipping down towards the ocean. 

Mira flew up beside him, grabbing Alex’s other arm to support him. The three of them glided along like some weird circus act, flying lopsided through the air. They managed to make it to the beach before crash-landing. Mira rolled onto her back, spitting sand out of her mouth. Alex groaned from beside her, but Sean was grinning like a maniac.

“Everybody okay?” Mira asked, shaking sand out of her quills and mission suit. 

“Yeah.” Sean laughed, “That was awesome.” 

They met up with Hank and Raven, standing on the beach after a fight with Azazel. Neither of them seemed too worse for wear. Mira breathed a sigh of relief. There was a very real possibility that not all of the First Class would make it back. Charles met them out on the beach, just in time to see Erik floating through Shaw’s broken submarine. 

He dragged Shaw’s body, suspended by metal at the wrists and ankles, behind him. Mira clenched a fist. She wanted Shaw dead, but this was so much more gruesome than she’d imagined. 

Still, it hadn’t really gotten bad until they dealt with the missiles. Erik and Charles were locked in some kind of mental battle, sending the missiles back and forth across the water. The rest of them stood back, unsure of what to do. Moira was the first to break into action, firing her gun at Erik. A good distraction but nothing more, considering the man could control metal. 

He deflected the first few shots harmlessly into the sand, but Moira fired one too many. The last bullet was sent backwards, hitting Charles in the back. He collapsed into the sand, Erik and Moira already running over to him. The forgotten missiles dropped into the ocean. Erik pulled the deformed bullet out of the wound, casting it aside. 

Mira broke out of her stupor, running over to Charles. Erik was quick to move out of the way, and Mira pressed her hands to the wound. Charles let out a groan at the contact. She sent ripples of her power through her hands, grateful that she didn’t have to bother with gloves. She sensed as the wound closed over, the shattered vertebrae repairing themselves and his spinal cord knitting back together. 

Spinal cord wounds were tough. Exhausting for her to heal, for one, and everyone knew that if the spinal cord was damaged, you could be paralyzed. She felt the wound heal, until the only indicator that he’d been injured at all was the slowly drying blood that stained his mission suit.

But he still didn’t get up. 

“Heal him!” Moira demanded, her voice sharp. Mira bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to snap at her. 

“I _did_. I don’t know what’s wrong.” Mira responded, passing her hands over where the wound was. All the damage was gone, she was sure of it. So why couldn’t he walk? 

“I don’t understand…” she muttered under her breath. She took a deep breath, trying to regain control of the situation.

“Um, guys? Hate to interrupt but we should probably get going. Unless we want to be arrested by two governments at once.” Raven’s clear voice called out. Mira clenched a fist. 

“Raven’s right. Let’s get him to the plane. We’ll need to run some diagnostics back at the lab too. I… I don’t know what’s going on.” Mira said, standing up. A rush of dizziness flooded over her, and she staggered. She half-sat, half-fell back down into the sand.

“Just...just give me a sec. I’ll catch up.” she murmured, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Moira nodded, hooking an arm around Charles’ shoulder and helping him back to the plane. Erik spared one final glance at his friend before turning to leave. At any other time, they would have tried to stop him, but Charles was incapacitated and the stress of the situation had left them all with mental tunnel vision. 

Mira knelt in the sand, rubbing her temples. She took deep breaths, waiting for the dizziness to subside. That much healing that fast always had consequences. It was a good thing all the fighting was over, she’d be utterly useless in this state. Slowly, she got to her feet.

“Are you alright?” Hank asked. He held out a hand, and she gladly took it, supporting herself on his arm. They slowly walked back to the plane, Mira mostly leaning on Hank. 

“Overused my ability. Too much too fast, and I’m tired from the fight.” she responded, “I’ll be fine.”

“Do you know why…” he trailed off. _Why the healing didn’t work? Why he still can’t walk?_

“No. I don’t.” she said with a sigh, “All the damage is gone, I don’t get it. He _should_ be fine.”

Hank let out a _hmm_ in acknowledgement. He helped her into the plane, then took his seat in the cockpit. Mira strapped herself in, sparing a glance at where Charles was seated. He still looked too pale, but he offered her a small smile. He could probably sense her confusion. 

Mira leaned her head back, pulling her wings up around her. If she could catch some sleep on the trip home, she’d be in better shape to run diagnostics on Charles back at the lab. She closed her eyes, and sleep came to her easily.  
____

Back at the lab, the diagnostics were as inconclusive as Mira had guessed. According to the panel of tests, Charles was the pinnacle of health. Which only raised more questions. Now Mira was performing a final physical exam in her clinic. Charles sat in one of the exam chairs in front of her, looking exhausted. Mira ran a pen across the sole of his foot. He didn’t react. 

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on. You should be fine, I don’t _get_ it!” she exclaimed, exasperated. She ran a hand over her eyes, gritting her teeth. 

“There’s no damage. All the tests came back clear. There’s no reason you should be paralyzed right now, but _somehow you are_. I just don’t understand it, and I don’t know how I can fix it.” she ranted, “I’ll do some more research. I’ll… I can figure this out.” She paused for a breath. “You should get some rest. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

Charles nodded, but didn’t say anything. He was probably still in shock. Mira would be too, if something like this happened to her. She helped Charles off the exam chair and into a wheelchair. He rolled out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. 

_I’ve never heard of something like this before. Is it possible for someone to be psychosomatically paralyzed? Or is there just something I’m not sensing?_

She paced around the room, scanning her eyes over the many medical and scientific textbooks packed into tall bookshelves across the room. She grabbed a few books on neurology, flipping through them idly. She’d read them more thoroughly later. She found another, filled with studies on the mutant gene. _Maybe this is somehow related to his mutation?_ She knew that latent mutations existed, triggered by some traumatic event, but she’d never heard of a latent gene expressed as paralysis. None of this made sense.

She just sat down at her desk and cracked open the first of her books when there was a knock at the door. She stood, making her way back to the front of the room and opening the door. Hank stood there, wringing his hands together. 

“Hey, Hank. What can I do for you?” 

“I was wondering if you could… if you could fix… this?” he stammered, waving a hand in reference to himself. Oh, right. Mira had already gotten used to his furry blue appearance, but she understood how it could be impractical.

“You’re not broken, Hank. I can’t fix you.” she said, echoing the words she’d heard Charles say to them many times before. Hank’s face fell, apparently thinking she wouldn’t help him. “But I’ll see what I can do.” she finished, “Come on in.”

He nodded, following her into the room. She hopped up onto her desk, crossing her legs in front of her. Hank remained standing, looking at her with curious amber eyes.

“From what I know about the mutant gene, most of its expression is controlled through hormones. That’s part of how it gets enhanced in the first place, the serum increased hormone production rather than slowing it. So I should be able to…” She hopped off the desk, walking over to him. She hesitated a moment before cupping his face in her hands. 

Mira closed her eyes, focusing her ability into reducing the expression of his mutant gene, sending it back to normal levels. This was less strenuous than healing Charles earlier, but it was a delicate process. She lowered it little by little, carefully, until she felt the fur recede under her palms. Without really thinking, she stroked her thumb over the ridge of his cheekbone. Hank brought his hand up, gently covering hers. 

Mira opened her eyes. Hank’s clear blue eyes met hers, and the muscles in his cheeks twitched as he smiled. For a moment, Mira thought he was going to kiss her, but then the moment passed and he dropped his gaze to the floor. He pulled his hand back from hers with an awkward little cough. 

Mira pulled her hand back, clasping it against her chest. She felt her face grow hot with embarrassment. She noticed a tinge of disappointment in her chest. She kind of wished he had kissed her. 

“Thanks. For doing that, I mean.” Hank stammered, still avoiding her eyes. 

“Right. Yes. Any time.” she responded, “It’s uh...it’s not a permanent solution, but once we get that serum fixed we should be able to-”

She was cut off, because then Hank’s hands were holding her face and his lips were on hers and he was _kissing her_. Mira stiffened for a moment, surprised, before leaning in to deepen the kiss. Hank’s hands slipped down to her waist, pulling her closer. Mira’s hands wound up pressed against his chest, but neither of them seemed to have any qualms about that. 

It wasn’t anything complicated, just his lips pressed against hers. His hands around her waist, just under the base of her wings. His body heat warming her. It was the most intimate thing she’d ever done, and it was incredible. She never wanted to leave this spot, wrapped up in his arms. 

After what seemed like eons, they broke apart, breathless. Their eyes met, and this time neither of them glanced away. Mira couldn’t stifle the grin that spread across her face. 

“Took you long enough, genius.” Mira breathed, running a hand through his dark hair.

Then he kissed her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Bet you thought I was gonna leave you hanging, but I just couldn't do that to you. The tension was too good.  
> \- Also kinda random but there's this Northwestern Mutual commercial about soap-making or something, and I _swear_ one of the people in it looks _just_ like Nicholas Hoult. I know it's not him, but they could be twins.


	6. Tour Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback, Hank takes Mira on a tour of the CIA base

~Two days after Chicago~

Hank was giving her a tour of his lab. Well, technically he was giving her a tour of the whole base, but given neither of them had access to much more than the cafeteria and a couple lounge areas - it is the _CIA_ , after all - it was a very short tour. So he’d looped back around and decided to show her his lab. He figured she’d appreciate it, given she seemed to share his mind for science. 

Really, he was just trying to make her feel more comfortable here. She seemed friendly towards him and Charles, but wary of the others. He couldn’t really blame her for that. But Charles was too busy to help acquaint her with the place, and the others were just as lost as she was. So, two birds with one stone. Show her around, and maybe stretch his pitiful conversation skills a bit. 

For a moment he wondered why he felt so inclined to talk to her. For the most part, Hank was a bit of a loner. And while he was _civil_ with the others, they could be a bit… rowdy for his tastes. Mira wasn’t. She was more vocal than Hank was, certainly, but she didn’t feel the need to draw attention to herself unless she had something meaningful to say. He admired that about her. 

He was actually finding many things to admire about her. She was an impressive person. He drew his eyes away from the plane engine he was describing, sparing a glance at her. She was wearing what could only be described as a cloak today, the loose fabric covering her wings. She’d had the hood pulled up as they’d wandered the base, but now that they were alone in his lab, she’d pulled it down to expose her face. Trusting in him? A show of good faith? Or maybe just because he’d seen her mutations before, back at Chicago? He didn’t know. But he took it as a good sign.

“This was one of my earlier models.” he said, pulling his eyes away. He didn’t want to weird her out by staring. “I was trying to come up with a lighter alloy, to save fuel. I also drew up a few designs for the chassis of the plane. Lighter planes are more susceptible to air currents, and I needed to reduce the drag if I was going to cut so much weight out of the picture.” 

Mira let out a chuckle. “Yeah, I get what you mean.” _Duh. Explaining aerodynamics to the woman who can freaking fly. Real bright idea, Hank._

“Um. Right. Sorry.” he awkwardly tried to recover. He picked up a small metal cube from a desk, holding it out to her. “Anyway, this is the alloy. It’s based on steel, but rather than combining carbon with iron, I combined it with this rare metal, vibranium. It’s incredibly light, but strong. Only problem is there’s hardly any of it on Earth, so I didn’t have enough to finish the plane.”

She took the cube, passing it gently between her two hands. “Wow, yeah, it _is_ light. Shame you ran out of the stuff, it could have been a game-changer. Probably still is, even unfinished.” 

Mira handed the vibranium-alloy (he really needed to give it a name, now that he thought about it) back to Hank, who set it back on the desk. She took a step forward to stand beside him, looking down at some of his old sketches that were still scrawled across the desk. She traced her finger along one of the sketches, outlining the wings.

“Looks good. But if you turn the back end up a little more, you could catch a tailwind without increasing the air resistance by much. Save a bit of fuel that way. A plane that light could get some serious use out of high-altitude air currents.” She mentioned, looking at him. He didn’t need to guess where she’d come to that conclusion. 

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” he noted earnestly, quick to grab a pen and scrawl her advice on a corner of the page. She nodded from beside him, taking a step back to look around the lab.

“So Hank,” she said, getting his attention, “You said you’ve got a PhD, but you’re what, 19? 20?”

“20, yes. I got my PhD when I was 15.” he answered with a bit of pride. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he worked hard to get where he was now. Mira whistled, still looking up at the plane chassis hanging above them. 

“15? Damn, genius, that’s impressive.” she called, sounding genuinely impressed. Hank felt his face go red from the praise. 

“What about you? You said you worked at a medical clinic, but is that just…” he trailed off again, not sure how to finish the sentence. He really needed to work on his conversation skills.

“Hey!” she cried. She would have seemed offended by the assumption if not for the grin on her face. “I have a degree, thank you very much.” Hank raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“MD?” he guessed.

“Yup. Technically started working at the clinic when I was 15, just volunteering, but I got my license a couple years later so I could really help out. I’m 19 now.”

“You got your MD in two years?” 

She shrugged, feigning nonchalant, but a hint of pink crept into her cheeks. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a bit of an advantage.”

“Do your parents live in Chicago too?” he asked. He was trying to change the subject, since she was clearly embarrassed, but instead she winced. Definitely not what he wanted. 

“No, they live just outside of Des Moines. I, ah… I ran away from home.” There was a clipped edge to her voice that made it clear she wasn’t going to explain further. _Way to screw that one up, McCoy_ , Hank thought to himself. 

Mira cleared her throat, running a hand through her quills.

“Charles mentioned something called Cerebro, maybe you could show me that?” she requested somewhat awkwardly, trying to rescue the situation. 

“Oh! Yes, of course!” Hank agreed, perhaps a little too brightly. He guided her outside, noting that she pulled her hood back up once they left the lab, and across the grounds toward Cerebro. From here it… kind of looked like a giant golf ball. 

He punched in the code to get inside, holding the door for her. Mira smiled at him as she took a few steps inside. She froze just inside the doorway as she gazed at her surroundings. Hank closed the door behind them, gently skirting around her towards his computer setup. Mira seemed to break out of her reverie at his movements, and walked over to the helmet in the center. 

“So this is how you knew where to find me?” she asked, mostly to herself. Hank answered her anyway.

“You and the others, yes. It amplifies Charles’ telepathy, from what he told me he was able to sense all the mutants in the country. If I redid the design, I might be able to make it global at some point.” Mira whistled in appreciation again, and the sound echoed off the walls of the sphere. 

“All the mutants in the country, and he picked us five.” she murmured under her breath. Hank wouldn’t have heard it at all, if the room wasn’t so echoic. 

“Well there’s age to consider. A fair amount of the mutants he saw were either little kids or adults too old to fight. Then there’s the matter of powers - you five have power sets that compliment each others’, and would be useful against the mutants we’re up against. And Charles must have figured you’d be the most willing to help, going after mutants that are hesitant to join the team would just waste time, and we don’t have much time to spare.”

Mira paused a moment, taking in his words, before flashing him a grin that showed off a hint of her sharp fangs.

“You sure it’s not just because of my shining personality?”

That startled a laugh out of him, a real laugh, and Mira’s grin widened. 

“I get what you’re saying, though. Why waste time trying to build a good team step-by-step when you could just go directly for the mutants you know will fit together well enough? Like… mutant fantasy football, I guess.” 

“Place your bets now.” Hank joked. Mira shrugged, going along with the joke.

“Ten bucks says Erik’s taking down Shaw. Double it if….hmm… double it if Darwin takes down that red guy.”

“Azazel?”

“Yeah, him.” Mira confirmed, pressing a hand to her side. She’d healed the wound after the fight, but she still had a nasty scar in its place. 

“Why Darwin?” Hank asked. He was pretty sure she hadn’t seen his ability yet - only Sean’s, Charles’, and Erik’s from their encounter in Chicago.

“Well, either his parents are assholes or he’s got something to do with evolution. And my money’s on the second one.”

“Clearly.” Hank replied. Mira laughed, ducking her head. Hank felt a blush rise in his cheeks. He liked making her laugh. 

“Thanks for the tour, by the way. This was fun.” Mira added. 

“Yeah, it was.” Hank agreed. Mira tilted her head at him.

“Come back and tell me this was still fun when you owe me twenty bucks.” she teased.

“Hey, I never agreed to that bet!” Hank argued, but couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

Mira shrugged, raising an eyebrow. She smiled at him one final time before pulling her hood back up over her head and walking out, back towards the main base. Hank followed her a moment later, a small smile still gracing his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I wanted to make an Epcot joke with that golf ball thing, but apparently that was built in '82, so there goes that plan. I know I said the timeline's not super strict, but that's more like "I'm not spending ten minutes Googling just to make sure that this denim jacket would be in-style for the time period" and less "if I want Epcot to exist 20 years before it was actually built, So It Shall Be", y'know?


	7. Research and Solutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira has gotten a bit overly absorbed in her research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I kind of intended the title as a play on “solutions” - as in, liquids like Hank’s serum - but that didn’t come across quite like I’d hoped

It had been a few days since their big battle on the beach. Sean had decided to head back home, and Alex’s prison sentence had been… mysteriously deleted from the system. Apparently saving the world from the complete nuclear apocalypse granted you some brownie points with the federal government. 

Erik hadn’t been seen since the fight, and not even Charles could get a hold of him. Must have been that damn helmet. And Raven was off doing God-knows-what just South of God-knows-where. Charles had his suspicions that she was with Erik, but nothing had been confirmed. Total radio silence. 

Which left Charles, Hank, and Mira. The good news was that Hank was apparently close to a breakthrough on the revised serum. The bad news was Mira still didn’t have a clue as to the cause of Charles' mysterious paralysis. None of her neurology textbooks had anything close to what she was dealing with, and even the reports she’d read on similar mutations were just as inconclusive. She was stuck at Square One. 

Mira had hardly left the library since the fight. She spent all day and night buried in any book she thought might help her. Neurology textbooks, mutant reports, even folk tales on mutants from various cultures. She felt a little bad - this time could be spent helping Hank with his serum, or getting Charles acquainted with managing his disability, all the medical things she should have been doing - but she’d become a little hyperfocused on this blind spot in her ability, and couldn’t tear herself away from the books until she figured it out. 

And besides, things had gotten a little awkward between her and Hank recently. After that initial rush of confidence they’d felt back in the lab, things had just sort of… died. He refused to meet her eyes, and they’d exchanged maybe three sentences after that day. Mira didn’t think that was due to her new reclusive behavior. Their relationship was in Limbo, caught somewhere between friendship and that nebulous _more_ , and neither of them could figure out where to go from here. 

Maybe that was part of why Mira dove into her research so wholly. If she wasn’t focused on the words she read, her brain was flooded with entirely too many thoughts about Hank. She kept replaying the event in her mind. The warmth of his body pressed against hers. The feel of his arms, holding her so close and yet so gentle around her wings. The look on his face after, blue eyes bright and gleaming. 

But mostly the sweet memories gave way to her worries. Did he regret kissing her? Did she do something wrong? What if it was just the adrenaline of the fight that had made them reckless, and she was reading too much into it? Mira was in uncharted territory now. She’d only been kissed once before, at Homecoming her freshman year of high school. And this was very different. 

She growled in annoyance, focusing her eyes on the page once more. This was the fourth time in the last hour that she’d gotten sidetracked by her thoughts. She’d been stuck rereading the same page for ten minutes, the words just wouldn’t stick in her mind. 

In a burst of irritation, she threw the heavy book at the wall. It thudded loudly against the brick wall, then slid down and softly landed on the carpet. Mira gritted her teeth, clenching her hands into fists. This would be so much _easier_ if she could just find the answers. The answers to Charles’ problem, or to whatever was going on between her and Hank. She just needed _answers_. 

She got up off her window seat, shaking out her limbs. Okay. Brain break. She’d go take a quick shower, make herself a cup of tea, and get back to it. She strode down to her room, grabbing a change of clothes and turning on the water to heat up. 

The hot water felt good on her skin and wings, and she audibly sighed. Her muscles were awfully sore from spending all of her time at that window seat. She turned off the water and dried off, slipping into a pair of joggers with some old t-shirt she’d grabbed at random. She sat down on her bed, running her fingers gently through her feathers. 

She aligned the feathers that had gotten misplaced from the current of water, carefully teasing them back into place. She was stupid enough to let her mind drift as she did so. She bet it would feel so nice to have someone else preening her wings, running warm fingers over the knots she always got in her back and shoulders from flying, brushing fingertips delicately over the russet feathers that connected her wings to her shoulder blades. _Nope. That’s enough. This is a brain break, we are not thinking about Hank right now._ She shook her wings out and stood up.

And guess who was right outside her door, arm poised to knock. Speak of the devil.

Hank jerked his hand back as soon as the door opened. Mira raised an eyebrow, silently asking him what he was doing here. She had to look up quite a bit to meet his eyes - her little trick the other day was only temporary, and he was back in his big blue Beast form. He shifted on his feet anxiously, but the gleam in his amber eyes told her he was excited about something.

“I think I figured it out. I think I got the serum fixed.” he spoke eagerly. Mira didn’t move from her position in the doorway.

“Good for you.” she said, expecting him to leave. When he didn’t, a hint of confusion flashed through her eyes. “Um….did you need something?” she added, perhaps a bit snappishly. So she was irritated at him. Sue her.

“Yeah, I…. I’m nervous.” he admitted, wringing his hands together, “What if it just makes it worse?”

All the anger melted out of her at his words. Irritated as she was at him ignoring her, she still cared about him. And his fears weren’t unfounded, either. He’d already dealt with the serum not working once, and he was still getting used to what happened. For it to fail again…

“Okay.” she sighed, gesturing towards the hallway. “Let me take a look.”

He stepped out of the doorway, letting her pass. The look of gratitude on his face was so bright it could have powered a small town. She jogged down to his lab, with Hank right on her heels. Already, she could see where he’d set up his work, slides of the serum already under the microscope and a few vials of slightly different colors rested in a test tube stand. 

Hank brushed past her, grabbing a syringe filled with the lightest-colored version of the serum. He flicked it a couple times before holding it out to her. She took it, investigating it. 

“This is the one I think will work.” he said, “But I don’t want to test it in case…” he trailed off again. Mira tried to think of a solution, leaving Hank waiting for a long moment. After a minute, she sidestepped him to access the microscope, grabbing a couple blank slides. 

“Okay. I have a plan.” she decided, unfolding the claw at the tip of her index finger. Hank looked startled for a moment, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “Relax. I’m just going to make a couple slides of my blood. We’re going to check them under the microscope, use the serum on one, and see if it changes. If it looks human, the serum works. If it doesn’t, no harm done.”

She dragged her claw across the tip of her opposite finger, letting the blood pool and drip onto the glass slides. She prepared the slides, setting one under the microscope and focusing it. 

“See? My blood has healing structures that humans don’t have. They’ll be a clear indicator of whether the serum works.” she said, gesturing to the microscope for Hank to take a look of his own. Sure enough, alongside the normal platelets, red and white blood cells, and plasma, her blood contained gray rod-shaped structures that he assumed controlled her healing ability. 

Mira took the other slide, mixing a small drop of the serum with her blood. She waited a moment for the serum to take effect before swapping the slides and refocusing the microscope. She took a long look at the slide, then grinned. The gray rods were gone from her blood. Her blood looked perfectly human. 

“It works. Go nuts.” she assured Hank, handing him the syringe and patting him on the shoulder as she brushed past him. He caught her wrist gently as she passed, stopping her. She turned back towards him. 

“Are you upset with me?” he asked quietly. Mira sighed, pulling her arm away from his. 

“Honestly? Yeah, a little. What, you just kiss me and then completely ignore me for three days? Pretend like that never happened? What the hell, Hank?!” her voice rose as she went on, her anger bubbling to the surface. 

“You locked yourself in the library for three days! What was I supposed to do, break down the door?” he fired back quickly. Mira clenched her jaw. He kind of had a point.

“You could at least talk to me!” she hissed. Her quills stood on end, reflecting her anger. She expected Hank to snap at her again, but instead he just sighed and set the syringe of serum down. He sat down on the couch in the back of his lab - the same one they’d fallen asleep on just four days ago.

“Alright, then let’s talk.” he said softly. Mira took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. She sat down at the other end of the couch, passing a hand idly over her quills to smooth them down. When she spoke next, her voice was quieter, almost a whisper.

“Do you regret it?” she asked, not meeting his eyes. 

“Of course not.” Hank didn’t miss a beat, as if it had never even crossed his mind to regret kissing her. The thought made her feel a little better. He hesitated another moment, then asked “Do you?”

“Hell no.” she said with a short laugh. Her tone was joking, but the smile didn’t meet her eyes. Humor was just easier for her, Hank knew that. She spent so much time hiding herself that joking was just another wall to put up. But then she took a deep breath, realizing that might have sounded more sarcastic than she meant it to. She met his eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. 

“No, I don’t regret it. And I don’t think that was a fluke.” she said honestly. Something in his eyes brightened at that, apparently he’d been having the same little worries as Mira these past few days. 

“I wasn’t trying to ignore you. I’ve just been so _stressed_ trying to figure out what’s going on with Charles. And I _want_ to make this work with you, I really do, but I don’t think I can do that until I find these answers.” she admitted. Hank took a long moment to process her words, nodding a little. 

“I understand. And I’ll wait for you, if you want me to. Anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.” 

Tears pricked at Mira’s eyes. She knew she didn’t deserve his patience, especially not after her little outburst. And yet he was willing to wait for her. She scooted over, until she was at his side, and leaned her head against his shoulder. Hank looped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. 

“Thank you. That… that means a lot to me.” she murmured, lacing her fingers through his. She took a long, shaky breath. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her chest, and she could breathe deeply for the first time in days. She still needed to figure out Charles’ mystery affliction, but at least some of the whirling, worrying thoughts in her mind had settled. 

“When was the last time you slept?” Hank murmured softly in her ear. Mira shrugged. She wasn’t entirely sure, to be honest. Her constant determination for answers had kept her awake, along with too many cups of coffee. It was only now, with Hank’s arms wrapped around her, that she recognized how tired she really was. 

Hank pulled her closer, until her legs were across his lap and her head rested against his chest. Mira stifled a yawn, curling into his warmth. Already her eyelids were fluttering closed. Hank pressed a kiss to her forehead, listening as her breathing deepened. 

Okay, maybe she needed a _bit_ more of a break than she’d thought.


	8. A Lucky Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira's found a connection. But is it enough?

“And you’ve had no sensation in your legs since the accident?” Mira asked, giving Charles a quick checkup. That’s what they’d apparently decided to call it, _the accident_ , avoiding anything more specific than that. Mira pressed a hand to where the wound had been, trying yet again to sense anything out-of-the-ordinary. Even a grain of sand in the wound could have caused problems, but again, she sensed nothing. And she’d spent _another_ week and a half checking up on the rest of her research. It was high time that she found a solution. 

“Nothing.” Charles responded. Mira pulled her hand away from the scar on his back, crossing her arms across her chest as she thought. Idly, her claws flexed and retracted against the sleeve of her lab coat. She clenched her fist, pacing a few steps.

“Have you experienced any other changes? Anything at all, no matter how minor it may seem.” 

“Nothing comes to mind.” Charles replied after a moment. Mira frowned. Surely _something_ had to have changed. And Charles wouldn’t withhold something from her, at least not from a medical standpoint. Mira traced her finger over the table, thinking. She was on the verge of a breakthrough, she thought, but wasn’t quite there yet. 

Okay. Replay the event. Charles and Erik were on the beach. Charles was controlling the missiles, fighting against Erik, and then he’d gotten shot. She’d healed the wound, but he hadn’t gotten better. Maybe…

“Charles?” 

“Yes, Mira?” 

“What’s Hank thinking right now? He’s in the library” she asked casually. That was a lie. Hank was down in his lab, far out of range. But Charles tilted his head like he was listening. Focusing. Maybe she had something here.

“He’s thinking about how to improve his design for a new plane.”

“What’s it called?” she asked.

“Mira, you know I don’t just go rooting around in my friends’ minds.” he scolded, giving her a sharp look. 

“I promise this is relevant. What is he calling the plane?” Charles held her gaze for a long moment before responding.

“He’s thinking of calling it the Blackbird.” he answered. Mira nodded, tapping a claw on the desk behind her. 

“Your power’s gotten stronger.” she noted, “Hank’s not in the library, he’s down in his lab. The range of your powers has improved.” She tilted her head, trying to connect the dots. This was connected, somehow. 

Charles’ ability was based in his central nervous system, like Mira’s was based in her blood. She didn’t know much more about how his ability operated than that - though she guessed that it had something to do with the brain’s natural electricity. And the spinal cord was also part of the central nervous system. If his mutation had naturally attempted to adapt to his damaged spinal cord, it was possible that something had gone awry when the damage was reversed. Which meant that Mira couldn’t fix it. Unless…

“You’ve figured something out.” Charles noted. She hadn’t felt his presence in her mind, he must have just known from her expression.

“I have. Be right back.” And she took off running down the halls. When she got to the stairwell, she hopped clean off the landing, using her wings to catch her before she hit the ground. She sprinted down the hall and burst into Hank’s lab. He jumped about a foot in the air at her surprise arrival.

“Do you have any more of that serum? I need some.” Mira blurted out. Hank glanced up from his work, the corner of his mouth twitching. He readjusted his glasses, looking sideways at her as he processed her words.

“I have a second batch if you really need it but Mira, I think you’re lovely as you are. You don’t need to-”

“It’s not for me.” she cut him off, “It’s for Charles. I think I figured it out!”

His face brightened at that, and he stood up from his desk. He prepared a syringe of the serum, putting a cap on the needle and handing it to her. Mira took it with a grateful smile, already taking a few steps towards the door.

“I gotta go. I’ll let you know if it works. Thanks!” Mira said, spinning on her toes and racing out of the lab again. After a moment she paused, then ran back over to give Hank a quick kiss on the cheek before running off again. She was back in Charles’ room in less than a minute. She held up the syringe of the serum.

“I think I have something here. I suspect that the paralysis is connected to your mutation in some way. This is the mutation-suppressing serum Hank made, it might be able to help you too.” she suggested brightly. Charles paused a moment to take in the information, then nodded. He held out his arm, palm up. 

“It’s worth a test.” he responded. Mira uncapped the serum, finding a viable vein in Charles’ arm and injecting the serum. He didn’t even flinch. Mira leaned back against the desk as they waited for the serum to take effect. 

“The effects will last about a day, so even if it doesn’t work that’s no harm done. But I really do think this will be a solution.” she spoke, wings twitching with anticipation. She kept a close eye on Charles, watching for some sign that the serum worked. His legs shifted. Mira’s mouth dropped open. 

“I can’t hear what you’re thinking.” Charles said wonderingly. 

“Ah, right. I figured that might be a side effect. Sorry.”

“No, it’s… pleasant. You and Hank are wonderful people, but your minds are just…” he held his hands up to his head, shaking them slightly, “Cluttered.” Mira understood. It was hard enough trying to turn her brain off to sleep at night, it must be migraine-inducing to hear that from everyone around you. Constantly.

“Do you think you could walk?” Mira asked. 

“I’m not sure. But I’d like to try.” 

“Okay.” she said. She held out an arm for support, helping him out of the chair. This was a good start. He was hardly leaning on her at all as he stood. He took an unsteady step, grasping her forearm. He took another step, but couldn’t manage a third before he fell against her. Mira stumbled as she tried to support his weight. Her wings flared, knocking an empty mug off of Charles’ desk, but she managed to keep him upright. 

He managed a few more steps, leaning heavily against her, and they managed to cross the room. Charles sank down into a chair, running a hand over his forehead. Mira took a step back.

“I feel like an old man.” he sighed. 

“This is progress. We’ll need to get the dosage right, but now we know this works.” Mira said, staying optimistic. This was a _solution_. The one thing she had been looking for. And science was all trial-and-error. Once they got the kinks worked out, this could be seamless. But Charles didn’t look pleased. He just looked irritated, like he was angry at his own legs for not working properly.

“I’ll talk with Hank, we’ll get the dosage worked out. Once we do, you’ll be up and walking in no time.”

“Thank you, Mira.” he said, but didn’t meet her eyes. 

“Would you like me to leave?” she asked, sensing his discomfort.

“If you wouldn’t mind. I just need some time alone.” Mira nodded. He seemed to be spending a lot of time alone lately. That had her worried for him, he was usually so outgoing. She sighed internally, rolling his wheelchair closer to where he was sitting so he could reach it. 

“Alright. I’ll be back in a little while to check up on some things.” she said with a small frown. She turned to leave, closing the door behind her. Charles was worrying her. She’d thought that finding a solution to the paralysis would help, but he seemed more withdrawn than ever. 

Mira sighed as she walked down the wide hallway. She had a feeling that Charles’ recent depressive episode was from more than just the loss of his legs. He’d lost Moira - having to wipe her mind for her own safety, she’d gone back to the CIA with no memory of him. He’d lost his sister, too - nobody knew where Raven had gone. And the rest of the First Class had dispersed, leaving the three of them alone in the mansion. Charles had lost so much in just a matter of weeks. 

Hank met her in the hallway just outside his lab. 

“Did it work?” he asked eagerly. At the sight of her sullen expression, his face fell.

“Yes, actually. We’ll need to get the dosage adjusted, but I was right. The paralysis is tied to his mutation.” 

“I would have thought you’d be excited about that.” Hank muttered, sounding more curious than accusatory.

“I am - well, I’m glad I figured it out. But I’m still worried about Charles. I guess that’s putting a bit of a damper on my good mood.” she replied, giving him a dry smile. She ran a hand over her quills with a sigh. 

“What’s wrong? Is he alright?”

“Physically, yes. The serum fixed the paralysis, but it silenced his telepathy. He didn’t seem to mind that, though. Apparently you’ve got a busy mind, Hank.” she joked, nudging him with her hip. The sight of his blush almost coaxed a real smile out of her, but then she glanced at the ground. 

“Mentally… I don’t know. He misses Raven. And Moira. Everyone, really. It doesn’t take a telepath to see that. He’s depressed. Lonely.”

Hank shifted on his feet, apparently at a loss for how to respond. 

“Should we get to work on adjusting the dosage, then?” he asked after a moment. Mira shrugged, then looked out the window. It was awfully nice out today, sunny but with a gentle breeze. And she’d spent long enough cooped up inside.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” she suggested. Hank held out his hand to her, and she took it, lacing her fingers in his. It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful day.


	9. The Last Good Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira and Hank stroll across the grounds. This might be the last nice day before the cold front comes in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I rewrote this one at least three times, and I’m still not very happy with it. But the next chapter should lead us towards DOFP, so hopefully I’ll regain a little momentum.  
> \- And on that note about momentum, I just want to give a huge thank-you to brigid1318, having your feedback has really been giving me a boost of motivation to keep writing

It really was a beautiful day. Mira and Hank walked around the grounds of the school, hand in hand. Mira spread her wings, letting the breeze brush through her feathers. It was probably one of the last warm days they’d have this year, there were reports of a cold front headed for New York within the next week. 

But the storm hadn’t hit yet, and although the trees were bare, it was a beautiful November day. The two of them walked in silence for a while, just taking in the sound of the birds. Mira was tempted to go for a fly, to take in those rich air currents before the weather turned, but she didn’t want to break away from Hank just yet. She stared up at the trees that surrounded them, watching the stray few leaves that refused to fall swaying in the wind. 

“Mira?” Hank asked, getting her attention. When she turned to face him, he continued. “May I ask you a bit of a personal question?”

“You can ask me anything, Hank.” she responded, looking into his eyes. 

“You told me about your… um… experiences with the serum.” he started, glancing nervously at her. She bit her lip, nodding. “What did you look like before?” Her eyes widened, and she shifted almost imperceptibly away from him. 

“Assessing your options, huh?” she joked dryly. 

“What? No, I don’t mean it like that. I’m just curious. You know, since you said you didn’t always look like this.” he stammered. It was cute, the way he got all flustered, but he wasn’t doing much to help his case. 

“Okay, um.” she began, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, “Blonde hair, green eyes. Obviously, no quills or claws or any of that. Looking back on it, I don’t actually look _that_ much different than I do now. Just a bit more human, I guess. It bothered me for a while.” She pulled her hand away from his, twisting her fingers together in her discomfort. 

“Does it still bother you?”

She took a deep breath, but paused. She… wasn’t sure. Was she actually comfortable with her appearance, or had she just adapted to it because she had to? The more she tried to figure it out, the more it escaped her. 

“I don’t know.” she said honestly, “I like that my healing ability is stronger, and the claws are pretty useful. The rest of it… I guess I’m still adapting. Being here has helped. If you’d offered me the serum a month ago, I’d have taken it without a second thought. Now, I’m not sure. I’m… God, this is going to sound so cheesy, but I’m realizing that I can be happy with who I am without it. And if that means I can’t dress up for dinner at a fancy restaurant, then maybe that’s the way it is.”

“But you can, can’t you? After the fight, your…” he searched for the right word.

“My little trick? Yeah.” Mira concluded, “But you’ve seen how using my ability too much affects me. If I’m spending half my energy just focused on looking normal, I’m just a drag on the team. And if I’m not at my best, well - you’re a doctor too, you know how _quickly_ things happen sometimes.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Hank conceded, but clearly he had something more he wanted to say. 

“And- I guess there’s a little fear involved, too.”

“Fear? Of what?”

“I just… I don’t know how to explain it. My medical sense is exactly what it sounds like. A _sense_. If the serum removes that, I’m blind. Or… deaf. I dunno, how do you explain a sense that only you experience? The point is, I’m kind of afraid of losing that. It's complicated.” 

He was silent for long enough that Mira thought maybe he had let it go, and she let of one of his hands to turn back towards the school. 

“Should we head back?” she asked. Hank nodded, apparently still thinking about something. He managed a whole minute of silence before he muttered something. Mira wasn’t sure whether she was meant to hear it or not. 

“You spend so much time worrying about others’ happiness. You’re allowed to worry about your own happiness once in a while.” 

“I am happy, Hank.” she murmured back softly. She gave his hand a quick squeeze. “I’m happy here. I’m happy with you. I’m happy to be able to help people. I _am_ happy.” Okay, that sounded a little saccharine, even to her own ears. But it was true. The past few months - fraught with stress and exhaustion as they may have been - were the most alive she’d ever felt. 

She’d spent way too much time thinking about where she’d be if Charles had never formed the First Class. With all the mutants he must have seen in Cerebro, from all over the _country_ no less, there _had_ to be another healer somewhere that fit the bill. If he’d gone with someone else, she’d probably be back in Chicago, trying to find a new job after they’d fired her. Or - maybe not even that much. Shaw had sent a team of mutants to intercept her, she could have wound up on the opposite side of the fight. No. Certainly not. She’d never follow Shaw’s plan of nuclear annihilation. So… she’d probably be dead instead. Not a pleasant thing to think about. 

“What are you thinking about?” Hank asked, noting the slight frown on her face.

“The Butterfly Effect, actually.” 

“From _A Sound of Thunder?_ ”

“Sort of… I was just thinking, what if Charles had never formed the First Class?”

He took a moment to think about that, his eyebrows furrowing. The wind kicked up a bit, blowing through Mira’s wings and clothing. If she were human, she’d probably find it chilly. But as a mutant, she usually ran a little warm. Most mutants did, but especially ferals. Like her and Hank. 

“Well, I’d still be working for the CIA. And you’d be back in Chicago, at that clinic, right?” he said after a moment. 

“Yeah.” She decided not to share her more morbid train of thought. The point was that it _hadn’t_ happened, she’d made the right decision in joining the X-Men. She tilted her head back, feeling the gentle breeze wash over her. Hank glanced over at her, then flicked his eyes up to the clouds drifting above them. 

“I’ll meet you back at the mansion?” he offered, reading her mind. She told him as much before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. She jogged a few steps away before spreading her wings and taking off. She lifted upwards, twisting in midair so she was flying upside down for a moment. She caught Hank staring at her from the ground, and she giggled. _Nice job being subtle, Hank. Not._

She pumped her wings harder, gaining altitude until the air grew thinner and colder around her. The sunlight was harsh in that winter way, crisp and cool as it shone down. There just wasn’t sunlight like this in the city. But maybe her perception was a little tainted. 

She banked towards the school, spiraling around the tall chimneys before dipping down to the ground. Hank was waiting for her by the main doorway, and she tilted downwards until she landed a few steps away. 

“Y’know, this might be the last nice day we have for a while.” she said as she walked over, “There’s a cold front coming in.”

“You could tell that from the air currents?” 

“What?” she laughed, “No, I saw it on the morning news. Temperature’s supposed to drop tonight, and we’re supposed to get a couple inches of snow.” 

“Shoveling the driveway isn't going to be pleasant.” he responded, gesturing towards the long road that led up to the mansion.

“Maybe we should call Alex, get him to melt it away.”

“That would be a sight.” Hank chuckled. 

“He’d probably take out half the trees in the process.” 

“Call it landscaping.” Mira laughed at that one, and Hank beamed. Mira spared one final glance at the courtyard around her. Already the snow was starting to fall: just a few gentle flakes now, but she knew it was going to pick up soon. 

Today was the last good day.


	10. Supercell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have gotten worse. How do you save someone from drowning when you’re struggling to keep your own head afloat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Sorry for the delay in posting. I actually wrote Chapter 11 before this one, then decided I wanted one before that and wrote this one  
> \- Also this is just a reminder that I’m sort of ignoring the decade-skips between the movies. I always found it weird how every movie was ten years after the last one, cause that makes most of the characters (played by actors in their 30’s) in their 40’s to 50’s. And don’t get me started on the cameo in Deadpool 2.  
> \- So yeah. Timeline is fluid here, we’re getting into DOFP now.

It was bleak. It had been many months since they’d figured out Charles’ ailment, and he was up and walking properly now. At first it had been a blessing, he’d seemed happier than he had since the battle. But things had only gone downhill from there.

The serum returned his legs, but the grief remained. Charles tried to drown out his misery with alcohol and more of the serum, leaving him numb and dead to the world most of the time. He’d become addicted to the silence the serum gave him. He took too much.

Which left Mira and Hank in the crossfires. They were just as miserable as Charles was, but doing their best to not fall into the same habits. It was tough. Winter left them cooped up inside, and though the mansion was stunning, even the most beautiful prison was still prison. Charles kept himself in this endless loop: drinking until he risked alcohol poisoning, spending the day in a haze, then sleeping it off to repeat the next day. Every trace of the friendly, caring man she knew had been drowned in hard liquor. 

It had been this way for what felt like eternity. More than once, Mira had thought about leaving. Being stuck here wasn’t doing any good for her mental state. A few times she’d gotten as far as packing a backpack, but she never got out the door. She couldn’t just leave them. She couldn’t just let Charles drink himself to death. She couldn’t just leave Hank to care for him all alone. She couldn’t just pretend she didn’t care. 

So she stayed. She left the house even less often than Hank did - one of them had to stay and watch Charles on the rare occasions they needed a trip into town for groceries or the like, and clearly Hank was better suited to being in public. So Mira spent most of her days in the library, close enough to Charles’ room that her medical sense could reach him but granted some semblance of privacy in books.

Hank tried to make up for it. Sometimes when he went out, he’d surprise her with flowers he’d picked up at the grocery store. Mira would always put them in a vase just outside the library. It gave the place some much-needed brightness. Maybe someday they could plant flowers all along the grounds. The students could join in, bring a little piece of home by planting their favorites at the entrance to the mansion.

That was the other thing that kept them there. Hope. Hope that one day Charles would get better, that his dreams of making the place into a school for mutants would eventually come true. Hank could teach classes on genetics, and Mira could teach biology or patch up the kids after training. 

The thought was nice, but as the days stretched on Mira began to lose that hope. Nothing was getting any better, and nothing she or Hank tried could bring Charles out of his stupor. The crushing blow came later. One day a letter had arrived at the mansion. At first Mira had thought that one of her friends had written to her, but the envelope was far too formal for that. The return stamp was under “Mr. and Mrs. Robert Cassidy”, and Mira’s heart sank to the floor.

Cassidy was Sean’s last name. And a letter from Sean’s parents could mean only one thing. Mira sliced open the envelope with a claw, bracing herself for the words inside. Her darkest suspicions had been confirmed. Sean had been killed. 

The letter was short, with few details. All it said was that Sean had disappeared a few weeks prior, and the police had found his body just a few days ago. In a laboratory. One owned by a man named Bolivar Trask. 

Mira let out a sob that echoed in the empty library. She found herself sunken down to the floor, wings wrapped around herself. She didn’t know how long she stayed there, only that at some point Hank must have come in. He didn’t ask questions, just took a long look at the letter before wrapping his arms around her. She knew from the way his breath hitched that he was crying too. 

“We can’t tell Charles about this. Not yet.” she whispered, “Not when he’s so close to the edge already.” Hank nodded against her shoulder. It felt like the world was crashing down around them and yet for Charles’ sake they had to stay upright. Sometimes it was like Mira and Hank were a lean-to, only able to stand with the other supporting them. No matter how much rain struck down on their shelter, they had to protect Charles resting underneath. 

If what they’d been dealing with so far was rain, this was a supercell.


	11. The Imminant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future is bleak, tainted. If they don’t change something, and _fast_ , this is where they would end up

_The Sentinels had found them again. It seemed like they always did. And they were running out of places to hide. Fighting was close to hopeless. The newest generation of Sentinels were difficult to defeat on their own, and Trask had sent a whole armada after the X-Men. In fact, the only reason they’d managed to make it this far was because they had two skilled doctors on the team._

_Mira crouched behind a pile of rubble. The buildings around her were destroyed, like nearly every city was nowadays. Even the ones that weren’t destroyed were overwhelmed with Sentinels. Charles had led them here - to a place that had maybe once been a stadium, because of the thick walls and open field space. They’d lasted here for a while, but it was time to move on again. The Sentinels were closing in._

_Mira peered out from her hiding spot. She could see John and Bobby going after the lead Sentinels, alternating fire and ice in an attempt to overwhelm their sensors. She wanted to help, but it was her job to stay hidden. She’d gotten marginally better at following orders in the past few decades. Maybe it was because of how much there was riding on this. It made Cuba look like a game of Battleship. E5, hit._

_She couldn’t see any of the others. Charles, Erik, Kitty, the rest of them were all inside, looking for a chance to make their exit. They needed to get to safety - well, they_ all _did - but without Charles and Kitty there was no chance of them being able to fix this mess. Technically Mira was supposed to be with them, hidden away inside. What? She said she was_ better _at following orders, not perfect! At least she was staying hidden._

_Mira ducked low as a Sentinel’s eyebeam swept towards her. She froze, barely even breathing. Already her catlike green eyes were scanning for an exit. The slab of concrete she hid behind wouldn’t protect her from the Sentinel’s mutant scanners. If she tried to run, she’d be blown to dust. It was too open, too exposed. Trying to fly for it wouldn’t help either. She was fast, but there were so many of them. Too many. And she couldn’t leave her team like that. She heard heavy footsteps approaching, crunching over gravel and broken pieces of rebar. The Sentinel was only a few steps away now and -_

_A roar cut off her thoughts, and Mira saw blue collide with silver as Hank attacked the Sentinel. He leapt onto its back, yanking its head backwards so the fiery beam missed Mira, burning a hole in the concrete behind her instead. Mira wrapped her wings around herself as rubble rained down. But she knew Hank couldn’t hold the Sentinel for long._

_She leapt out of her hiding spot, watching as the Sentinel’s attention flashed over to her. That was the one weakness they’d found in the Sentinels so far. Advanced as they were, they were still machines. They were programmed to sense movement, and that bought them a moment of distraction. Mira ran across the grounds, leaping over rubble and dipping in and out of broken buildings. She didn’t dare fly. She’d be shot down before she got ten feet off the ground._

_The Sentinel was chasing her now, though its aim was impeded by Hank still clinging to it. Shots blasted all around Mira, the explosions making her ears ring. She gritted her teeth, willing herself to keep running. Just a little further…_

_An explosion knocked her off her feet, sending her flying. She managed to tuck into a roll, but her wings were still yanked uncomfortably backwards. Nothing broken, at least. She shuffled behind a slab of concrete, trying to buy herself a few seconds. A spear of flame jetted past her, and she knew John had joined the fight._

__Get out of here, now! _she shouted mentally at Charles._

__We’re not leaving the four of you behind, Mira. _his voice replied back. She could hear the tinge of panic in his words._

__We’ll catch up, I promise. Go! _she shouted again, ever insistent. She felt his presence in her mind, debating. He didn’t want to leave his teammates, but he knew that staying could put all of them in danger._

_Her medical sense exploded._

_After the initial flare - like a firework going off in her head - died down, the rest of her senses cleared up. She risked a glance out of her hiding spot, and saw the Sentinel. John was hitting it with a continuous spray of fire, melting its metal carapace, but that didn’t stop it from grabbing Hank by the ankle and slinging him heavily into the ground._

_The half-melted Sentinel raised its arm, throwing Hank against the side of a building. He crumpled to the ground, not moving. It was only due to her medical sense that she knew he was alive. Barely._

_The Sentinel collapsed, the heat apparently becoming too much for it. John stopped his onslaught, falling to his knees. His chest heaved with the exertion. Mira flew over, faster than she’d ever flown before._

_Hank looked awful. He was unconscious, thank God. His blue skin was marred with almost-black bruises, and Mira could sense at least a dozen broken bones. She stripped off his shirt, noticing more dark bruises. Internal bleeding. One of his broken ribs had punctured a lung, and she could hear him struggling to take in a breath. She placed her hands on the sides of his face, fighting the urge to flinch at the damage she felt._

_She sent surges of her power to heal his wounds, but there was just so much damage. After a moment, his breathing became less strained, and some of the worst bruises across his abdomen faded. His eyelids fluttered._

_“Mira…?” he muttered, his eyes not quite focusing on her. His blue skin flickered as he shifted out of his Beast form - it was easier for her to heal him that way. Mira squeezed his hand, fighting back tears. Even as she did so, she was working desperately to heal the damage._

_“I’m here, Hank. Just hang on, okay?” she whispered. Already her head was starting to swim with her exertion. This concerned her. After decades of practice, gaining endurance, she hardly ever passed out from healing someone anymore. But her vision threatened to fail her now. God, there was so much damage._

_She was starting to get desperate. Even with her efforts, combined with his own healing factor, some of his organs had practically been liquefied by the impact. His heart strained, but his pulse became weaker by the second. And judging from the way his eyes stayed glassy, unfocused, he had sustained some severe head trauma._

_“Stay with me, Hank. You’re not allowed to die, you hear?” she muttered desperately._

_“I’m not allowed?” he rasped._

_“No, you’re not. Doctor’s orders. Look at me, focus on my face.” she continued. She couldn’t stop the tears that streaked down her face now. Even at the best of times, this would be a long shot. But she was running on four hours of sleep, at best, and she was starting to think this wouldn’t be enough._

_“We’re going to get out of here, okay?” she pleaded, running her thumb over his fingers. She stopped on his ring finger, on the engagement band he wore there. He’d made it himself, designed to shrink and expand as he shifted between forms. “We’re going to get out of here, and we’re going to fix this, and then we’re going to have our wedding. You and me, genius. Till death do us part.”_

_“Autumn.”_

_“What?” she almost didn’t hear him. His voice was deathly quiet._

_“An autumn wedding. September or October.”_

_“Y-yeah. And Charles will be your Best Man, and my sister will be my Maid of Honor. Charles will probably cry.” Just keep talking, Mira. Keep him awake._

_“You… you look so pretty in your dress.”_

_“A backless dress, to show off my wings. The veil… the veil will get caught on my quills, and you’ll help me get it untangled.” She could practically see it. She_ wanted _to see it. But now she feared she’d never get the chance. She was so focused on Hank that she didn’t notice the heavy metallic footsteps growing louder._

_“An emerald… in the ring…” His breath had gone shallow. “To match… your eyes.”_

_Mira squeezed his hand, looking up at the Sentinel that was approaching. She could just see the top of its head. It didn’t have a clear shot yet, but it would in just a few more steps._

_“Go. The Sentinel…” he gasped, a little more sternly this time. Even in his state, he hadn’t missed the danger she was in. Weakly, he pushed against her, trying to get her to stand. To leave him. Instead, she leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. The Sentinel came into full view now. She’d missed her chance to escape. If there had really been any chance at all._

_“I love you, Hank.”_

_He opened his mouth to respond, but couldn’t find the breath to do so. She sent a final, desperate pulse of energy into him, a last-ditch effort to heal his wounds. His chest rose as he took a raspy breath. It didn’t rise again._

_The Sentinel’s eyebeam fired towards her. Everything seemed to happen in slow-motion. White-hot pain in her chest, searing straight through. Mira gasped, in too much pain to even scream. Then she went numb. Her nerves couldn’t handle the damage. Mira willed herself not to look down at the wound. Already the world was fading around her. Her vision tunnelled, blurred._

_The last of her strength failed her. Mira collapsed, falling against Hank’s chest. She didn’t even feel the impact. She was beyond feeling. The sounds of battle raged around her, but all she could hear was her own heartbeat. Slower…_

_Slower…_

_The world went dark._

_She died in Hank’s arms._


	12. An Unexpected Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger arrives at the mansion… and he knows a little too much about its occupants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This is probably the only chapter of exposition stuff I’m doing for this section because we’ve all seen Days of Future Past, you don't need me to describe it to you. Also it was really boring to write. I needed to have the movie pulled up so I could transcribe all the dialogue and actions and stuff, which made it a slow and fairly dull process.  
> \- Also, sorry for the slow update. I'm trying to update it at least once a week, but like I said this chapter was slow to write. Hopefully once we get into the action a bit more, it'll pick up a bit.

Somehow they made it through the winter. The temperatures slowly began to rise, allowing Mira to go out for her morning flies around the grounds again. That was about the only time she went out, though. Charles still needed constant attention. 

The mind has a funny way of adapting to things. Over the many months in which Mira and Hank had been locked up inside, tending to Charles, it had become a sort of routine. It wasn’t pleasant, not in the slightest, but they’d adapted to some of the misery. They carried on like this was normal, because what other choice did they really have?

Mira had eventually told Charles about Sean’s death. It hadn’t gone well. Charles had gone silent. He hadn’t yelled. He hadn’t cried. It would have been better if he had. The silence was horrible. He’d spent the next week locked up in his room - not that that was much different from what he did normally. 

Mira had brought him food, and Hank had dropped off his dosage of the serum, but he’d refused to unlock the door or even talk to them. It almost reminded Mira of doing the same for Hank, back when his first serum had gone awry. It felt like an eternity had passed since that day. 

Then a week had passed, and Charles had finally left his study. He’d walked down to the living room, where Hank and Mira were playing a card game, and he’d apologized for his week of seclusion. Naturally they’d forgiven him. 

Hank had taken on another project during their isolation - recreating Cerebro in the basement of the mansion. Mira’s wings had proved especially useful in installing some of the panels in the spherical room. The project had taken him many months, though it seemed like staying busy was the main thing keeping Hank sane. 

When he’d finished that one, he’d set up TVs and radio channels, keeping them in touch with the events of the outside world. When he’d finished _that_ , he’d built a new, more accessible wheelchair for Charles. Not that he ever used it, but it was there if he ever decided to stop using the serum. And of course, he was always reinventing the serum, trying to find a way to make it better. Mira lost count of how many times he’d drawn her blood to examine if her targeted healing could improve the serum. 

Months after months, they kept this same routine. Care for Charles, work on projects, try to manage at least one meal together. Try to pretend like the world wasn’t crashing down around them.

____  
There was a knock at the door. Mira was upstairs, reading a book in her room, when she heard it. For a moment she debated getting up, but changed her mind. Hank was downstairs, he could deal with whatever unfortunate solicitor had decided to walk up to the property. Besides, Mira was very familiar with the way she tended to scare people. She didn’t need local children telling stories about the cryptid that lived in the old abandoned mansion down the street. 

And then she’d heard a series of crashes. And a roar. Mira leapt to her feet. That was Hank, was he in danger? Nevermind that she was still in her pajamas - an old t-shirt and fleece pajama pants. Mira darted out the door, noticing that Charles was standing in his own doorway. He looked confused, though decidedly less distressed than Mira. Maybe that would comfort her if he still had his powers, but it didn’t now. 

She walked alongside Charles to the top of the stairs, where they could see Hank hanging from the chandelier. He was in his Beast form, but looked unharmed. An unfamiliar man had crashed onto the table below, and lifted his head to look at Charles. Mira could tell by his scent that he was a feral, like her and Hank. 

“Hank? What’s going on here?” Charles asked, walking halfway down the staircase. Mira followed, a step behind. The feral’s gaze shifted to her, and she all but bared her fangs at him.

“Professor? Mira?” the man asked. Mira and Charles spoke at the same time.

“How do you know my name?” 

“Please don’t call me that.” 

Mira’s sharp hiss contrasted Charles’ defeated sigh, and the feral looked confused at their reactions.

“You know this guy?” Hank asked, still hanging upside-down from the chandelier. He pointed at the other mutant.

“Yeah, he looks… slightly familiar. Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank.” Charles replied, sounding exasperated. Hank flipped to the side, landing easily on the floor and shooting Mira a confused glance. Charles walked a few steps further down the stairs. Mira didn’t follow, though she kept a wary eye on the unfamiliar mutant on the floor below. 

“You can walk.” It was somewhere between a statement and a question, and it came from the man on the table. 

“You’re a perceptive one.” Charles responded sarcastically.

“I thought Erik…” Charles ignored his reply, talking quickly over him.

“Which makes it slightly perplexing that you missed our sign on the way in. This is private property, my friend. I'm gonna have to ask... him” Charles waved a hand at Hank “to ask you to leave.” 

Charles settled down on one of the steps, nursing his glass of liquor. Starting the day drinking early, weren’t we? He gestured to the door, prompting the feral to leave. He didn’t budge. Mira hopped over the railing, dropping down to the floor so she was at the same level as the rest of them. The other mutant glanced at her as he got off the table, but seemed unconcerned. For some reason, it grated on her. She wasn’t sure _why_ he dismissed her like that, but it got on her nerves. She didn’t say a word, though. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that because, uh, I was sent here for you.” That garnered twin confused looks from Mira and Hank. Charles was starting to look irritated. 

“Well, tell whoever sent you that I’m busy.” 

“That’s gonna be a little tricky, because the one who sent me was you.”

“What?” 

“About 50 years from now.” 

Charles broke into laughter at that, thinking this was some sort of practical joke. Hank waved a finger around his head in a “crazy” gesture, and Mira snorted. 

“I know. Stay with me.” the stranger replied, surprisingly patiently.

“Like in the future, 50 years from now?” Charles asked incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“I sent you from the future?”

“Yeah.” Charles glanced at Hank and Mira, gauging their expressions. Hank shook his head, and Mira raised her eyebrows at the stranger. He seemed to believe what he was saying wholeheartedly, but this was ridiculous. Was this some kind of weird trick? Or a cult? Had he sustained some head trauma? Mira didn’t think so, but hey. She’d been wrong before.

“Piss off.” Charles snapped.

“If you had your powers, you’d know I was telling the truth.” The stranger deadpanned. Mira bristled, quills raising defensively. That was a step too far. How had he guessed that Charles was a mutant, let alone that he was without his powers? 

“How did you know I don’t have my p…” Charles wondered, but trailed off. “Who are you?”

“I told you.”

“Are you CIA?” A logical conclusion (though Hank didn’t seem to recognize the man either), but he shot it down immediately.

“No.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“I know you, Charles.” The stranger said, taking a few steps around the table, “We’ve been friends for years. I know your powers came when you were nine. I know you thought you were going crazy when it started, the…” He pointed to his temple. “...voices in your head. And it wasn’t until you were twelve… that you realized the voices were in everyone else’s head. Do you want me to go on?”

Charles looked stunned. _He_ was supposed to be the telepath, not this newcomer. And clearly he wasn’t simply looking in Charles’ head - he was a feral, and Mira had never heard of a feral mutant with telepathy. Not that it _couldn’t_ exist… but Mira didn’t think so. Charles shook his head slightly.

“I never told anyone that.” 

“Not yet, no. But you will.”

“Alright. You’ve piqued my interest. What do you want?”

“We have to stop Raven.” There was a long pause as he said those words. Hank shot a glance at Charles, gauging his expression. This wasn’t going to be good. Asking a man - who still wasn’t entirely sure you weren’t playing some twisted practical joke - to take down his own sister? 

“I need your help.” the feral continued, as if that would make it any more convincing, “We need your help.” A series of emotions flashed across Charles’ face. Mira had trouble reading them all, but she knew he was conflicted on the matter. He would want to help this man, because that was just in his nature. When he wasn’t drinking his days away, Charles was one of the most selfless people Mira had ever met. 

On the other hand, this stranger had just asked him to fight, potentially even kill, his own sister. Whether her methods were misguided or not, Charles wouldn’t be able to do that to Raven. Mira empathized with that. She had a sister too. She hadn’t seen Olivia in years, but she’d drop everything to help her. And she knew Liv would do the same for her, mutant or no. 

“I think I’d like to wake up now.” Charles muttered gruffly, standing up from the stairs and leaving the room. He brushed past Hank, who slowly shifted out of Beast form. Mira reluctantly let her guard down as well, though she still didn’t trust this stranger. 

“What does she have to do with this?” Hank asked. His expression was conflicted in a way that made Mira’s heart pang with something unpleasant. She knew he and Raven had some… romantic encounters… but he didn’t talk about it much. And why would he? Hank was far from a ladies’ man, but even he knew that it was rude to discuss your exes in front of your current significant other. Mira pushed the irritating spike of jealousy away. She was just overthinking this, as usual. 

The stranger took a moment to process an answer for Hank’s question, but seemingly couldn’t find a way to word it. Which meant whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good. You don’t wear that expression unless you have bad news to give. 

Which made Mira very, very worried. She didn’t think Charles could take any more bad news. She didn’t think _she_ could take any more bad news. 

It almost made her miss the monotony of the prior months.


	13. Transatlantic Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira’s a little sick of waiting and hiding. But things are about to change

Damn her quills. Damn her quills and her fangs and her cat eyes. There was an important mission - sneaking into the Pentagon to release Erik - and Mira had to sit out, because she couldn’t blend in. Logically, it made sense. But after being cooped up inside for months after months, Mira was getting a little tired of not being allowed in public. 

At the moment, she sat on the wing of their plane, staring off at the distant Pentagon. She had no way of knowing how the mission was going from here, and it irked her. It felt like every important mission wound up as “stay in the plane” for her. 

Mira had already refueled the plane and checked it over, making sure everything was in top shape before the flight to Paris. Then checked it again. She needed something to _do_ , something besides sitting in the plane and waiting. Or… sitting _on_ the plane and waiting, in this case. 

She knew that if something went wrong, Peter would zip over and grab her as backup. She wouldn’t be _completely_ useless on this mission. She was a good fighter, not to mention the benefits of her healing ability. But unless they needed her, she just had to wait. 

To be honest, she _had_ been tempted to manually reduce her mutation, just temporarily. She could, if she wanted to. But eventually she bailed on the idea. Probably not the wisest decision to tire herself out right before a big mission just because she was _bored_. 

At least Charles seemed to be doing better. Having something to work for, a clear mission with a goal in mind, was helping pull him off his feet. He still wasn’t 100%, not by any means, but he was better than he’d been in months. The mission was helping in multiple ways, it seemed. One, he was able to help others again. Two, he knew that both Raven and Erik were alive, and could potentially retrieve them. Three, he couldn’t exactly wallow in his misery, or drown it out with alcohol, with so much danger on the table. He was sad, not stupid. 

Eventually she got tired of sitting, and paced along the roof of the plane. The closest people around were several miles away, at the barely-visible Pentagon. So no matter how ridiculous she looked - a random winged mutant walking back and forth on top of a plane - nobody could see her. She kept her eye on the sunrise, looking for some sign of her crew.

There. A telltale blur of silver that quickly resolved itself to show Peter and Erik at the base of the plane. He was gone in an instant, retrieving the rest of them. As Charles, Hank, and Logan popped into view (looking a little green in the face), Mira hopped off the roof of the plane to greet them. It was a bit of a drop, but she easily caught herself with her wings and landed gently on the ground.

“Took you long enough.” 

“Jesus, you sound like the kid.” Logan said gruffly, ignoring Peter’s offended “hey!” in response. 

“Yeah, well. Not much to do when you’re out in the middle of nowhere.” 

Hank gave her an apologetic wince. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. No getting around it this time, I understand.” she replied easily. Hank nodded, then took a couple steps towards the plane.

“I’ll get us ready to leave, then.” 

“I took care of it, actually. Like I said, not much to do.” she said, gently grabbing his hand before he got too many steps away. Sometimes Hank had a tendency to get going before he really processed what had been said to him. 

“You’re amazing.” he said matter-of-factly, turning to face her with a grin. Mira rose up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Audience be damned.

They thanked Peter for his help and bid him good-bye before loading onto the plane. Mira took a seat beside Hank in the cockpit. He didn’t need her help to fly the plane, obviously, but it was nice to have someone to talk to on the long flight. 

____  
“I’ve never been to Paris before.” Mira said, looking out the front windshield. Erik, Charles, and Logan were in the cabin. She could hear them talking, but couldn’t quite make out what was being said from here. 

“Me neither. Though I doubt we’ll have time for sightseeing.” Hank replied. 

“Maybe I could convince Charles to let me do recon. I could keep watch from the Eiffel Tower or something.” she said jokingly. Hank laughed.

“I think you’d have a hard time convincing Charles you’d want to do recon in the first place. You’re not exactly the wait-and-watch type.” Mira shrugged in response, and Hank spared a glance over at her before returning his attention to the dashboard.

“You know me so well.” she said, leaning back in her seat. The words were sarcastic in nature, but her tone was genuine. In the many months they’d spent back at the mansion, she and Hank had grown especially close. He probably knew her better than anyone did, even Charles. 

“Do you really think Charles can get through to Raven?” Mira continued, changing the subject. 

“I hope so. She’s not… I really don’t think she’s a _bad_ person. She’ll see reason.” Hank responded, choosing his words carefully, “She’s… self-motivated, but even Raven wouldn’t put herself before the fate of the world.”

He didn’t sound convinced. There was a note of forlornness in his voice, one that made Mira’s hackles rise. Clearly something had been left unresolved between Hank and Raven. Mira wasn’t typically the jealous type, but this rubbed her the wrong way. 

“I hope you’re right.” she replied. Mira twisted in her seat, trying to get a good look at the others, but her wings caught uncomfortably on her harness. With a growl of frustration, she unlatched it and stood to walk towards the cabin. 

Bad idea. The plane lurched right as she stood, making her lose her balance in a very undignified way. Mira winced in pain as her hip clocked against the edge of the dashboard, and she grabbed for her seat in an attempt to regain balance. Beside her, Hank was struggling with the controls. 

There was a sound of crumpling metal, and Erik’s voice rose to a shout from the cabin. The plane was taking a nosedive towards the ocean now, caught under Erik’s control. Mira fell back into her seat as the plane tilted again. She dug her claws into the leather seat, wondering if it would be possible to break the windshield if they went down.

“Erik!” Hank shouted back, still wrestling with the controls. All the loose items in the cabin were sliding back and forth like they were on a ship at sea. Erik was still shouting at Charles, too caught up in his rage to release the plane. Hank repeated his warning, slightly quieter this time.

The plane began to level out, the metal hull snapping back into place. Mira leaned back in her seat with a shaky sigh. That was more terrified than she’d ever been in the air. Was that how normal people saw flying? Hank glanced at her, then back at the others. Charles stood, brushing past Logan to walk up to the cockpit.

“Mira, swap with me.” he said definitively. Mira nodded, getting up from her seat and trading places with Charles. He needed to be separate from Erik for a while. Mira sidestepped Erik to take a seat at the back of the cabin. She folded her claws back down, gritting her teeth. Logan was speaking in hushed tones to Erik, but Mira ignored them. 

The private jet was nice, but Mira would have much preferred one of Hank’s planes. Okay, maybe she was a little biased, but they had adjustable seats! He’d even designed them with fold-down backs, so she didn’t have to cram her wings into the small space. Not to mention his planes were probably a lot safer than this hunk of aluminum. 

Mira sprawled sideways across two seats, trying to stretch her wings. It would be about a seven-hour flight in total, meaning they still have over half the trip to go. Mira wished she’d brought a book. Not to mention she was still antsy after their recent almost-plunge into the ocean. 

She ran her fingers through her feathers idly, trying to busy herself with preening her wings. She caught Logan watching her, and bared her fangs at him. 

“What are you staring at?” He raised his hands, but tilted his head at her.

“Haven’t seen many ferals like you before.” he said with a shrug. Mira scowled at him. 

“Ew, buddy, I’m taken.” she snapped.

“I know. And not what I’m trying to say. Just not a lot of winged ferals around.” he said. Mira rolled her eyes, returning her attention to her wings. Truly a man of many words, huh? He’d barely spoken more than a sentence since he explained the mission to Charles. It was a little infuriating. 

“Yeah, well, they call me Chimera for a reason.” She turned more fully away from him, trying to indicate that the conversation was over. 

It was going to be a long flight.


	14. Majestic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're in position. All that's left is to proceed. Can they stop Raven in time?

Mira got up from her seat. She’d been dozing for a while, long enough that the sun had dipped below the horizon. She stretched, spreading her wings along the aisle with a yawn. Logan was asleep, Charles and Erik were playing a game of chess, and Hank was still up in the cockpit. Mira walked up to the front of the plane. 

“Hey, Hank. Let me take over for a while?” she offered. He glanced up at her gratefully. He looked tired, which didn’t surprise Mira in the slightest. He’d been flying the plane for almost the entire trip. Mira sat down in the copilot seat, taking hold of the controls on that side. One of the few perks of being stuck at the mansion for so long: Hank had taught her the basics of piloting. In response, she’d taught him a few medical tricks. He knew the basics and then some, but Mira filled him in on some tricks she’d found dealing with mutants at the clinic.

“Let me know when we’re over Europe.” he replied, getting up out of his chair and stretching. He walked to the cabin, collapsing into one of the plush leather chairs and falling asleep almost immediately. He hadn’t even taken his glasses off. 

Okay, fine, she let him sleep. He certainly needed the rest. And Mira still wasn’t exactly skilled in following directions, even when they came from the man she loved. Hank woke up when they had just crossed the border into France, and blearily took his place beside her in the cockpit. 

“You were s’posed to wake me.” he muttered, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. He ran a hand over his eyes tiredly. 

“Figured you could use the sleep.” Mira responded, glancing at him. They were almost to the airport now. In the morning, the mission was on. Logan had gotten word that Raven would attempt to kill Trask at the Hotel Majestic in Paris. It would be a little on-the-nose to spend the night there (and a damn shame, it was an impressive place), so they were staying in a hotel on the other side of the city. 

Hank took over to land the plane, and Mira went to wake the others up. Logan nearly stabbed her with his claws when she tried. As if she needed more reasons to dislike him. Charles and Erik had fallen asleep sitting across from each other, having not moved after their game of chess. 

Hank landed the plane and coasted down the runway to the empty side of the airport. The place was basically an airplane graveyard, honestly. They didn’t technically have a license to fly this jet, so an official airport was out of the question. He parked the plane neatly at the side of the runway. Still maintaining order even in a place like this. It was such a perfect display of Hank’s character that Mira couldn’t help but smile.

She opened the door and hopped out of the plane, finally able to fully stretch her wings. The others followed, gathering at the base of the plane. They’d been in the air for close to eight hours, and with the time zone difference, it was close to 3 AM in Paris. It only felt like about 9 PM for Mira, who was used to Eastern time, but the jet lag would hit her _hard_ if she didn’t sleep now. And Lord knows she didn’t want to be jet lagged for a mission.

Time to head to the hotel.

____  
Charles had booked three rooms. Hank and Mira would double up, so would Charles and Logan, and Erik got his own room. That was probably for the best. None of them wanted a repeat of the plane incident. The hotel he chose wasn’t the most upscale, it really just looked like any other hotel: each room had two queen-sized beds, a small bathroom, a TV. 

“Ready for tomorrow?” Hank murmured. They were sharing one of the beds. Mira leaned against Hank’s side, with his arm around her. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the gentle sound of his heartbeat. His hand had snuck under the hem of her camisole, and he traced slow circles on her back with his fingers. 

“If I start thinking about that now, I’ll never get to sleep.” Mira replied, trying to keep her mind clear. 

“Why does it seem like it’s always us trying to stop the apocalypse?” he wondered aloud. 

“Cause we’re the only people who can.”

____  
Mid-morning the next day, five mutants walked into the Hotel Majestic. For a moment, Mira was stunned at the extravagance of it all: the tall room decorated by paintings and chandeliers, the clean wooden trim and expensive-looking furniture. She brought herself back to focus a moment later though, as she and the others had turned down a hallway towards the conference room. 

First issue. Everyone they passed was in a suit or similarly formal clothing. Mira and the others were not. Leather jackets and jeans, definitely not up to par. Mira herself was wearing a long corduroy jacket over a blue v-neck and slacks, and had a beanie up over her quills. She didn’t hide her eyes, figuring sunglasses indoors would be more suspicious than her slitted pupils. If Charles had use of his powers, he could simply throw up the illusion that they were dressed more appropriately - or make them look like different people entirely. But since he wasn’t, they had to make do and act like they belonged here.

Second issue. There was an entire hallway devoted to conference halls, and at least half of them were occupied. Again, things would be much easier with Charles’ powers, but instead they had to rely on the three ferals’ heightened hearing to figure out who was in which room. 

Third issue. While Charles, Erik, and Logan were sweeping one end of the hall, Hank and Mira were checking the conference rooms at the other end. Mira was just outside one of the doors when it opened suddenly, and a sharp-dressed man stepped out. He must have been tidying up the room, if his hotel uniform and bottle of cleaning solution were any indicator. He nearly walked straight into Mira, then shot her an irritated glare.

“Excuse me, miss. Hats are not allowed inside the building.” he said sharply. 

“That’s… uh…” _Come up with something!_ “...against my religion.” she excused awkwardly. Usually she was better at lying, but he’d caught her off guard. 

“Really? Which religion?” the employee replied, clearly not believing her in the slightest. 

“I’m… Mormon.” She wasn’t the most knowledgeable on religion, but she was pretty sure Mormonism was primarily an American thing. Maybe this Parisian man wouldn’t know enough about it to question her on it? Clearly that sounded convincing enough, at least, because some of the suspicion left his eyes. Hank walked up beside her, apparently having noticed her plight. He held one hand out to the man, giving him a small smile in greeting.

“Yes, my wife and I were wondering if we could use one of these rooms for our daily prayers?” he asked the employee. He shook Hank’s hand, then gestured towards the rooms. 

“I suppose, just don’t leave a mess.” He excused himself and walked on to the next conference room, disappearing inside. As soon as he was out of sight, Mira clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her nervous laughter. It was infectious, apparently, because Hank started laughing as well.

“Mormon?” he teased.

“ _Wife?_ " she replied.

“At least he believed us.” Hank conceded, but Mira winced. 

“I don’t… think he did. He probably thinks we’re sneaking off to have sex in there or something.” Hank’s turn to go beet-red. Mira nearly laughed at the way he flushed and stammered for a reply, but she figured she’d spare him at least _some_ of the embarrassment. “Come on, let’s keep looking for Raven.” 

In the next moment, a flurry of people burst out of seemingly nowhere. They ran down a flight of stairs, pushing past the mutants in a frantic rush. When the stampede cleared out a little, Mira went to investigate where they must have come from. Not one of the conference rooms, that was for sure. There was a staircase leading up, one they all must have missed. Mira could hear sounds of a fight faintly from above.

“Raven.” Hank said breathlessly, connecting the dots at the same moment as Mira. She waved Charles and the others over, already starting up the stairs. 

She was standing on a conference table, fully blue and aiming a gun at Trask. Charles got there first, shouting her name. Raven froze, and Mira saw a flash of movement. Stryker, who had been lying on the floor apparently dazed, raised his arm to fire a taser at Raven. She stiffened from the shock, falling onto the table. Charles moved immediately to tend to her. Before any of the others could deal with Stryker, Erik had already sent the wires backwards into his neck. Stryker collapsed, twitching and jerking with the electricity.

Mira glanced around, trying to take inventory during the chaos. Trask was pointing some small white device around at them, scowling. Stryker was now incapacitated, thank God, and besides the mutants there was nobody else in the room. Looks like they had the situation mostly under control, as long as they kept an eye on Trask.

But of course luck wasn’t on their side. It never was.

Two things happened at the same moment. One, Logan fell dizzily back against the wall. He looked confused, and clutched at his temple like he had a headache. Mira couldn’t sense anything, maybe this was some weird future shit? And two, the discarded gun flew into Erik’s hand with a click. He was pointing it at Raven. 

Charles immediately moved in front of Raven, shielding her from Erik. Logan looked faintly sick, and Mira moved to check on him. Apparently she chose the wrong crisis to focus on. Raven took off running across the conference table, and Erik lifted his gun. Hank body-slammed Erik, knocking the gun out of his hand. It fired anyway. Damn you, metal powers. 

Logan wasn’t looking so good either. He slid down the wall, veins standing out on his forehead. Mira wasn’t sure whether he was going to vomit or pass out. Or both. Erik got up, striding away from the tangle of people. He floated out the window, and Mira saw Hank shift into his Beast form. 

Logan’s head snapped up, staring Mira right in the face. He looked confused… and furious.

“Who the hell are you? Where am I?” he demanded, bone claws slicing out from the backs of his hands. Mira took a step back, raising her hands defensively. 

“Charles?” she requested nervously. Maybe he at least had an idea of what was going on, even without his abilities. 

“How the hell did I get here?” he asked again, still glaring at Mira. Charles got to his feet, standing beside her.

“What? You came to us.” he defended, stepping in front of Mira.

“Who are you?” 

“Charles.” As soon as he said his name, Logan’s hand darted out to grab him by the lapels. “Charles Xavier!” he snapped angrily.

“I don’t know you.”

“Ah?” Charles voiced confusedly. Well, that didn’t help. Clearly Charles didn’t know what was going on any better than Mira did. 

“What the hell is that?!” Logan shouted suddenly, flinching backwards and releasing Charles. Hank had stood up from behind Charles, and apparently his Beast form had startled Logan. 

“I can handle this. Just go. Stop Erik.” Charles insisted, looking at Hank and Mira. Hank took off running, and Mira shed her jacket to free her wings. Hank dove out the window, tackling Erik. Mira was only a few steps behind, soaring out of the hotel and looking for Raven. She could sense an injury on her right calf, but Raven had already disguised herself. In the chaos, Mira couldn’t pinpoint the injury enough to find her. 

Hank was wrestling with Erik, half-drowning him in the fountain. All around Mira, people were running. She could even see a few cameras, recording the group of mutants. She was sure they’d make the news, tonight and possibly throughout the rest of the week. Mira fought the urge to hide, to duck down into herself like she used to. She’d only recently broken that habit, and she struggled now to not fall back into it. 

As she glanced over the crowd again, looking for Raven, a flash of silver caught her eye. Ropes of metal - from the fountain, she realized - were wrapping around Hank’s wrists and ankles, slinging him up over the fountain like the world’s worst modern art exhibit. Mira ran over, seeing Erik already disappearing into the crowd. She cursed under her breath, unfurling her wings in an attempt to gain a little more speed. That drew the crowd’s attention, and she saw cameras flash, but she ignored them. 

Erik was gone before she could reach him, and the wall of people kept her from chasing after him. She flew over to Hank, trying in vain to release him, but she had no way of cutting through solid metal vines. She tugged on the wrist restraints with a growl of frustration before she realized something. 

“Shift back.” she commanded. They needed to get out of here before the police arrived. They’d already garnered far too much attention due to the crowd. Hank’s eyebrows furrowed, and his appearance flickered slightly, but it seemed like he was too worked up to shift back himself. Mira placed her fingers against his temples, ignoring the crowd’s cries of “mutant!” and “freaks!”. 

After a moment, Mira was able to shift him out of his Beast form long enough for him to slip his wrists and ankles out of the metal grips. He splashed down into the fountain, and Mira tugged him to his feet almost immediately. They ran to the side of the Hotel Majestic, giving a cursory greeting to Charles and Logan. 

The plaza was in chaos.

____  
Back at the hotel, Mira flipped through news channels. Every single one was showing footage from today. She’d watched Hank being strung up in the fountain, watched herself fly over, watched him shift back before the two of them ran, from what felt like a thousand different angles on a thousand different channels already. She knew that was ridiculous: there were only four news channels, at best. But she still felt… exposed. 

They were calling her all sorts of things. The more liberal news channels were calling them a “group of rogue mutants”, while the others claimed anything from “dangerous feral” to flat-out “winged beast”. 

Mira glanced at the other bed, where Hank was laying with one arm looped behind his head. He’d shifted back to his Beast form at some point, though Mira honestly hadn’t noticed when. Mira was sitting on the edge of the other bed, trying to convince herself to flip off the TV and go to bed. Easier said than done. 

She leaned back with a heavy sigh. She’d expected attention, but this was ridiculous. There went any chance of going incognito. Now their faces were plastered across international news channels: including both of Hank’s, thanks to Mira’s attempt to free him. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. 

Tomorrow morning they’d be back on the plane, headed back to New York. Mira wasn’t sure how they’d classify this mission. Sure, they’d stopped Raven from killing Trask… this time. But Charles hadn’t gotten her to come with them, so Mira was sure she’d try again. Did that make the mission a failure? Semi-failure? It definitely didn’t feel like a success.

“Woo-hoo, eight more hours trapped in a tiny aluminum tube. How fun.” Mira muttered sardonically. Hank let out a sound of acknowledgement, but he was already half-asleep. He probably hadn’t even processed what she’d said, just that she’d spoken. She smiled to herself as she grabbed the remote to turn off the TV. Okay, maybe it was time to get some sleep.

Mira stood up from the bed, stretching for a moment before sliding under the covers beside Hank. He let out a drowsy, contented hum and pulled his arm around her. Mira curled against his chest, listening to the comfortable sound of his heartbeat. 

She could get used to this.


End file.
